


The Unexpected

by MyFirstistheFourth



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Community: hprarefest, Developing Relationship, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Time, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Minor Violence, Oral Sex, Rimming, Romance, Slash, Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2015-06-02
Packaged: 2018-03-30 15:28:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 23,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3941926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyFirstistheFourth/pseuds/MyFirstistheFourth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco Malfoy had traveled the world in search of an ever elusive second chance.  Even when he returned to Britain, he only found doors slammed in his face.  He knew his family's allegiance to the Dark Lord would shadow his life forever, but how was he ever to move on from the past if no one would give him a break?  A rainy day, a random decision, a violent attack, and a hero of the Wizarding War would become his personal knight in shining armor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [digthewriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/digthewriter/gifts).



> **Author's Notes** : Much Gratitude to Spades and ladyofsilverdawn (FF) for the extensive help betaing this fic. And a special thanks to Her Royal Goddess (FF) for Brit-picking this for me. This is my second Fest to participate in and I have had Great fun with both of them. I can't wait to see what you guys think, especially you, digthewriter. I hope I did your prompt and wishes justice.
> 
>  **MOD NOTES** : This story is created for [HPRAREFEST 2015 on livejournal](http://hprarefest.livejournal.com). It's currently anonymous and author will be revealed after July 5th.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Life had not gone the way Draco had expected; though in light of the war and its outcome, he was not exactly surprised. His parents and he were spared Azkaban after the famous Harry Potter testified for them before the Wizengamot. He still wasn’t even sure _why_ Harry had done it. After all, the Malfoys and The Chosen One had never been on friendly terms; but he was determined to make the most of the second chance. His parents were under house arrest, but he was free to pursue further education or work. In light of the family’s disgrace, however, no respectable pureblood wanted to be tied to the Malfoy family. Understandably, his previously arranged betrothal had been dissolved discreetly. So for all intents and purposes, he was a free wizard following the trial. But making something out of his second chance had been harder than anticipated.

Draco left the country, figuring he would have a better shot at success if he were away from the epicenter of the recent war. Travelling the world, he took a few odd jobs that used his skills, getting a taste for what he might like before he finally settled in Paris. 

If Voldemort hadn’t robbed him of his professor and godfather, Potions Master Severus Snape, he would have apprenticed under him. Instead, Draco found himself brewing beauty potions at some random apothecary. Every day he was reminded of his Head of House and mourned for the brave, unparalleled man. He lasted three months before tossing in his stirring stick.

The Slytherin knew he was not cut out for competitive flying as a living, so Quidditch was out, and there were few other careers where his love of flying could be used to his advantage. Chasing down exotic birds for potions ingredients or wrangling dragons held no appeal for him. After eleven months, he returned home, more than a bit discouraged but still resolved to successfully start a new life.

He learned quickly that coming home had been a mistake. No one would see him for interviews if they knew who he was, and if he managed to get an interview under a false name, he was promptly thrown out or offered a job so menial even a house-elf might balk at the work. Just to avoid the magical world for a while, Draco had taken to staying in Snape’s old home in Spinner’s End. Since his godfather died with no family, he had named his godson heir to his small estate, but Draco could not bring himself to use Severus’ money. The reminders within the former owner’s home did nothing to help Draco’s mood, but it offered him seclusion and quiet, which he needed. 

He had taken to wearing muggle clothes and wandering around, observing the non-magical world. He considered approaching Potter, but knew his former classmate was in Auror training and had already done more than was required to help him out. He also learned the hard way that he couldn’t rely on his old school friends either. Blaise had invited him out once or twice, only to call the evenings short when the attention grew too great. Many of his other peers were still in hiding with their families and resented Draco’s freedom, such as it was, while others would not even bother to reply to his owl. Pansy had invited herself—on what she clearly decided was a date—perhaps thinking she had a chance now that Draco was no longer engaged. After all, even if the Malfoy’s were disgraced, they were still wealthy. When Draco caught on and made it clear he had no interest in dating anyone, let alone marrying, Pansy was quick to disappear. Draco didn’t have access to any of the Malfoy fortune anyway; the majority of it restricted by the Ministry of Magic for the period of house arrest. His parents were given an allowance to live on dictated by the Minister himself. Draco was in essence penniless and completely independent for first time in his life, and that’s how he ended up in his present predicament. 

He did not have much in the way of provisions at Spinner’s End and hated to visit his parents just to eat their food and leave. So when Blaise had invited him out to a small pub near Diagon Alley, Draco had jumped at the chance for a meal he didn’t have to pay for. He ended up waiting for an hour, sipping on a glass of water with lemon before a note arrived saying, Blaise had been unavoidably detained and wouldn’t make their date. “Probably met some girl.” Draco huffed to himself before leaving the pub, he didn’t have any muggle money on him after all.

When he exited the pub, he found that one of London’s typical downpours had chosen to strike, and he didn’t carry a muggle umbrella nor was he about to get into trouble with the Ministry over the inappropriate use of magic in front of muggles. Instead, he pulled his black hoodie over his head and zipped up tight against the soaking rain. With a sigh, he realised that the nearest apparition site in this part of non-magical London was streets away and he would be soaked before he got there. He could always apparate from Diagon Alley, he just tried not to go there if possible. Maybe if he dodged his way through Knockturn Alley he could avoid most of the witches or wizards there and get away without too much trouble. That was his plan anyway. But if anyone knew how plans did not always go as you expected them to, it was Draco. He had almost escaped notice and gotten away when a group of drunken wizards stumbled out of the back of The Leaky Cauldron, bumping into him.

“Whoa! So’ry ther mate! Din-din’t see ya,” a loud, drunken voice called out. Draco mumbled something, just trying to get away before he ran into anyone else. He was startled when a hand pulled him around to face the three drunken prats. “Hey! I-I’mn tryin to a-a..pologiz. Ith’s rude not ta anser.” Draco looked up, catching sight of the blue eyes and flaming red hair of one of the last people he wanted to see.

Ron Weasley stared at the pale spectre from his past standing before him. The first anniversary of the war had come and gone. A day that reminded him of all he had lost. Now he spent most of his time drunk, unable to move on. This little git was unwelcome to be a part of the anniversary tributes and celebrations because he had chosen to support the wrong side. Ron didn’t care that he had been cleared during that bloody farce of a trial, the ferret was still guilty as far as he was concerned. As he shoved Malfoy against the stone wall, Ron’s eyes grew cold and deadly. The back of Malfoy’s head made a satisfying thwack against the bricks. Balling up his fist, Ron punched him hard in the gut. They weren’t in school anymore and Saint Potter wasn’t here to hold him back. He had very little left to lose. _Malfoy would pay_.

Before he had a chance to reach for his wand, Draco found himself doubled over, seeing spots, and unable to breath from the shocking blow. A quick second punch sent sharp pain through his side, followed by a blow to the side of his head knocking him to the hard wet cobblestones. His vision was blurring as he tried to get enough air to beg Ron to stop, to just let him go. He tried to protect his middle, holding one hand out as if to ward off the drunken attack, even as a booted foot kicked into his gut. Weasley’s drinking buddies encouraged the attack and taunted the already pained man. A hand jerked Draco’s head up by his hair for another bruising blow, before he was dropped to the pavement like a sack of potatoes. Seeing the foot draw back yet again, he closed his eyes. _I’m going to die_. He couldn’t say he wanted to, however no one would lift a hand to help a Malfoy—not anymore. The shouting grew fainter and there was a bright burst of light through his eyelids before his world went completely black.

{*} {*} {*}

There was humming, a gentle burr that grew louder as he reached consciousness, finally resolving into an actual tune. _Was there humming in the afterlife?_ Draco supposed he was going to find out. He would not admit to himself that he was afraid to open his eyes as he scrunched them more tightly shut.

“You can wake up now Draco, you are perfectly safe. Ron won’t be hurting you anymore today.” _That voice!_

Draco’s eyes flew open, promptly landing on the blonde curls and permanently pleasant expression of Luna Lovegood. She was dressed in the robes of an apprentice healer. His eyes darted around the room; it was certainly not St. Mungo’s. In fact, it resembled nothing more than a normal bedroom. He was beyond confused as his gaze returned to Luna who was sitting on the edge of the bed next to him. 

Luna smiled kindly, “You will probably be quite sore for another day or two, but I have left some potions that will help. Your rib was easily repaired since it was only fractured, however, the punctured lung took half an hour of spellcasting to mend properly. Thankfully, your internal organs escaped permanent injury, though you will feel the effects of the deep tissue bruising for several days. Your head will be fine, but you may feel a bit dizzy and possibly have quite the headache. Rest and take your potions and you should recover quite nicely.”

Draco was still trying to absorb her words when he was startled by the entrance of a tall, shirtless man. The man’s face was hidden beneath a towel, as he busily dried his damp hair, yet there was something so familiar about the way he moved. 

Muggle joggers hung low on the mystery man’s lean hips, hinting at a substantial package and clinging smoothly over the curve of taut buttocks. Water trailed over his well-developed pecs and abs before rolling into the chiseled vee that led towards his enticing groin. 

Draco had admired and wanted to pursue many attractive men and women over the years, but given his betrothal, then the war during his burgeoning puberty, as well as the state of his life since the end of the war, he hadn’t been able to explore his desires more fully. 

Never until this moment had a man so affected and completely drawn his regard. _What is it about him?_ He felt a sudden twitch in his cock and flushed warmly, rearranging the blankets more snugly under his chin to hide his growing arousal. Luna smiled broadly, a knowing gleam in her eye. 

“Your damsel in distress is awake,” she winked at Draco, as she brushed her fingers over his brow, “and beginning to feel feverish from the looks of things. Perhaps I should leave him some potions for that as well.” Draco was fairly certain she was teasing him.

“Oh!” A rich-baritone voice from underneath the towel, quickly drew Draco’s attention. At last the damp terry cloth was draped over broad shoulders to reveal the face of...Neville Longbottom! 

His old schoolmate’s dark, tousled hair curled against his forehead and drew attention to his hazel eyes. Draco was surprised to see both warmth and uncertainty in them. Why the Gryffindor felt unsure, he didn’t know. He was the one with a reason to be nervous, lying here vulnerable among his former enemies. 

Neville smiled, gesturing at himself, “Sorry, we made a bit of a mess when I apparated us here.”

_I was unconscious and Longbottom had to apparate me here. That means he had to pick me up in those... strong, well-developed arms and carry me before placing me on... a bed. Shit!_ Draco couldn’t seem to stop thinking of those arms flexing around his body, holding him securely. It didn’t take much for him to start imagining other things that well-built body could do to him. His cock pulsed in response to his wayward thoughts and he groaned low in his throat as he forced himself over onto his side a bit more, letting the bend of his knees hide the burgeoning evidence.

Neville, misunderstanding Draco’s heated expression, rushed on, “It’s fine though! Perfectly understandable given the state you were in. Not a problem at all… I just needed a shower, and…I…well, I…,” Neville’s gaze raked over Draco’s hidden body on _his_ bed and lost his train of thought, “forgot...t-to grab a clean shirt. So I apologize if I disturbed your rest.” Flushing, he gestured towards the chest of drawers across from the bed, “Let me just…” He trailed off as he pulled open a drawer, grabbed a t-shirt and pulled it quickly over his head. 

Draco was sorry to see the t-shirt cover Longbottom’s smooth skin but it did little to disguise the physique underneath as the cotton clung to his damp body. _Damn! Just what had Neville been up to in the last year? And why in the hell is he affecting me so strongly?_

Neville had always been the class dimwit, easily dismissed. The man that now stood before him made Draco’s mouth water and his cock throb uncomfortably. No point in getting his hopes up—or anything else. Draco sighed. Lovegood and Longbottom were likely lovers.  
_But wait. Why was he here?_ Maybe they wanted money, a reward for aiding the Malfoy heir. If that were the case, they would be sorely disappointed like so many others. _Shit! What if I'm being held hostage?_ Looking for his wand, Draco lifted the covers. He was no longer wearing his own clothes but instead wore a Gryffindor t-shirt and bright red pajama bottoms. _The indignity! Where is my bloody wand?_

Neville had turned back around once he had his shirt on and had watched Draco’s odd facial expressions as he tried to process the situation he found himself in. He hadn’t heard a word from the pale young man in his bed. _In his bed_. Neville would never admit aloud that Draco Malfoy, lying in his bed was a bit of a fantasy come true. He had harbored a secret crush on Draco for years. Age and experience had done nothing to diminish his fascination with the regal perfection of the pureblood prince. He shook those thoughts away when he saw the panic crossing Draco’s face once he discovered his clothes missing. As he began looking around frantically, Neville held up both hands, to show he meant no harm as he spoke , “Draco, your wand is on the nightstand. We are in my flat on Diagon Alley and you are perfectly safe here. I promise you; I will not allow any harm to come to you while you are in my home. If you prefer, I’m sure arrangements can be made for you to recover with your parents instead. I’ve already sent word to let them know that you’re safe and being looked after.”

When Draco looked puzzled, he shrugged sheepishly and continued, “The attack on you was rather public, being right behind The Leaky Cauldron and all. It isn’t certain if _The Daily Prophet_ got hold of the story, but since plenty of witches and wizards witnessed the attack and the chaos afterwards when the Aurors apprehended Weasley and his mates, it’s very likely. I didn’t want your parents to hear about the attack or see it in the Prophet and have no word about you.”

Draco’s eyes grew wide in surprise, and he still could not find any words to say to his apparent host and...hero. Luna patted his hand gently as she rose from the bed, her distant expression and smile in place. “I’ll come by tomorrow to check on you. Rest, eat, and you’ll feel much better in the morning. I promise.” Draco managed a quiet, ‘Thank you Luna,’ and she just nodded her acceptance without making a fuss. She turned to go, stopping long enough for a hug and accepted Neville’s whispered thanks before she disappeared out the door.

The two former adversaries stared at each other for a moment before both began to speak at once. Neville blushed and motioned for Draco to proceed. Oddly enough, he found he had to look away from Neville to form a coherent thought. “I… uhm. Well, it would appear Mister Longbottom that I owe you my life, as well as my thanks. I don’t even know why you bothered to step in but… I appreciate it. If you can give me my clothes, I will get out of your hair. I mean, you’ve done enough without having to suffer the wrath of your other friends and all.” Draco had to pause and swallow the lump in his throat as he realized that he had no friends to come to his aid; that he was quite possibly alive only thanks to the intervention of someone who had suffered due to his pride and cruelty when they were at school together. He wasn’t accustomed to receiving kindness from anyone these days. Draco blinked against the prickle of unwanted tears. He had never felt so alone.

Neville cut off those thoughts abruptly. “Please Draco, I believe we have known each other long enough to dispense with the formality. You may call me Neville, and you’re not going anywhere except possibly to my guest room. Is it okay to call you Draco?” He chuckled when Draco jerked his head back around in surprise and slowly nodded in assent. “Well, my room was the closest at the time but I might like to sleep in my bed tonight. I figured you’d object to sharing.” He was rewarded for his teasing with a sudden small smile on Draco’s face. “Anyway, you heard Luna. You need food and rest and she will have my hide if you haven’t gotten both when she comes to check on you tomorrow. As for everything else, you are more than welcome. You didn’t deserve Ron’s attack. He’s been...a mess ever since the war, first losing Fred, then blowing things with Hermione because of his drinking. We thought he would harm himself when Hermione got together with Harry.” He shook his head sadly, thinking about his old friend. “We’ve all tried to help without any success. You just happened along at a bad time and he made you the focus of all his pain and anger. It’s unfair and I am sorry that I couldn’t stop him before you were hurt.”

Draco didn’t know what to say, finding kindness in such an unexpected place was a strange feeling. That overlaid with the sudden aching attraction he was experiencing proved to be a bit overwhelming, and he found himself chuckling at the utter absurdity of his situation. Neville smiled as he saw Draco relax a bit, until he heard the unmistakable sound of the fair-haired man’s stomach rumbling.

“Ah, that sounds like my cue,” Neville said. “If you feel up to it, you can come out into the kitchen, and I’ll fix us some dinner and tea. If not, I can certainly bring a tray in here.”

Shaking his head then wincing slightly from the movement, Draco said, “No, you’ve done enough already Neville,” enjoying how his host’s name felt on his tongue and lips. “I think I can make it just fine. I’ll,” he slowly eased himself up until he sat on the edge of the bed, “take my time.” Draco was thankful that at least his arousal had ebbed as they had talked so he didn’t have to worry about embarrassing himself. He ached all over and definitely felt a bit woozy, but he thought he would be able to manage without collapsing onto the floor. 

Realizing that Draco needed to do something on his own to regain his confidence, Neville watched him carefully as he maneuvered himself, “Well, if you’re sure you’ll be alright.” He points at the foot of the bed, “If you like, there are socks and slippers over there, and you can’t miss the kitchen. It’s not as if this place is huge. I’ll go ahead and get started, but promise to yell if you need help, get too dizzy... anything. Just call, I’ll be right out here, okay?”

Draco nodded and offered Neville a genuine smile, “Thank you, Neville. I promise I will do that.” Neville left him alone then, but kept the bedroom door wide open in case Draco did indeed have to yell. 

The rattle of a tea kettle and other sounds of preparation drifted in from the kitchen. Taking his time, Draco managed to pull on both the socks and slippers before he slowly stood and braced his hand on the nightstand until a fresh bout of dizziness faded. He was indeed sore but made his way across the room by using a chair, a wall, and the doorframe as supports along the way. He stopped in the door of the bedroom to take in the flat. 

The bedroom opened directly into the sitting area and beyond that was the kitchen. Draco glanced to his right, seeing a short hallway with doors which he assumed led to the guest room, the lav, and such. Neville glanced over his shoulder to see how Draco was progressing, making sure he was fine and pointed to the dining chair he could sit in before returning to his task. Draco continued to make his way slowly, leaning on the back of the sofa for support. The flat was cozy, small but comfortable. The overall color scheme of chocolate brown and cream with shades of blue and green spread around was very soothing to Draco, masculine without being dark and overbearing. He could feel at home here very easily, he thought absently. Overstuffed chairs and the sofa were grouped around a fireplace in want of a fire at the moment, but it was summer yet. He could hear the rain still pouring down outside and see it sheeting down the windows in the sitting room. He did not see an entrance to the flat however, maybe they were on an upper floor. 

Eventually, Draco made his way to the kitchen, sinking at last into the chair Neville indicated at the small table pushed up against the wall. Neville promptly served him a hot cup of Earl Grey tea. Milk and sugar were already on the table so he could fix it as he liked. As Draco prepared his tea, he watched Neville’s muscles flex as he went about making supper. Neville had certainly matured a great deal, moving with utter confidence in the small kitchen. Of course, the war had forced maturity on many, but Neville seemed to wear it more naturally. Draco had seen with his own eyes when the unexpected war hero beheaded Voldemort’s foul snake Nagini. He had also read the numerous articles hailing him as one of the war’s champions, right alongside Harry himself. Even being a pureblood, raised by his strict grandmother, Neville did not bear a trace of the haughty arrogance evident in most of the others in the same class. Draco studied the handsome man humbly making him dinner, realizing there was no sense of undue pride about him, no self-inflated ego as a result of earning the praise of the entire wizarding world. He was still just Neville—the well-meaning, kind-hearted guy who was not above helping even a man he once called enemy.

Joining him at the table, Neville was soon serving their steaming-hot meal. He glanced over the brimming bowls and heaping plates in satisfaction before summoning two glasses and a bottle of red wine. It was at that moment that it occurred to Draco that Neville had only used his hands and not his wand to prepare their dinner. He shook his head in wonder, and the thought of his hands _on him_ flashed through his mind. 

Neville leaned forward, his fingers unconsciously stroking the neck of the bottle and whispered conspiratorially, “I won’t tell Luna if you won’t.” He uncorked the wine and poured them both half a glass; their fingers touching briefly as he handed over a crystal goblet.

Prompting his guest with a smile, “Perhaps a toast then, to new found...friends.” 

Draco raised his glass and shared a small smile, “I think I will drink to that.”

After they both took a long swallow, Neville encouraged, “Well, go on. I heard that stomach growling before you even got here. Eat up! I won’t let you have dessert if you don’t eat. Those are the rules.”

Draco chuckled softly, feeling oddly like they were on a date. He quickly shook off his fanciful thoughts and picked up his spoon. Neville had served them each a bowl of French onion soup; the cheese melted thick over the top of the bowl. It was paired with half of a roast beef sandwich, piled high with lean buttery beef on crusty bread. His mouth watered from the delicious sight and aroma, and he gave Neville a broad smile before he began to eat. 

They managed to chat companionably during their meal, Draco even praising Neville’s cooking skills, causing the young man to blush. The wine helped to relax them both and they began to talk about things since the war, though it was clear that they both were glossing over certain parts. Neville had apparently traveled a bit after the war as well, just to find some solace before returning to London. Draco wasn’t sure what business he worked in, but Neville brushed off those questions saying they would talk about it tomorrow after he had more time to recover. Before Draco knew it, their plates and bowls were empty, and Neville got up to see about dessert. He served up a raspberry tart with streusel topping and strong hot coffee for them both. Despite the circumstances that brought him here, Draco had not had such a pleasant evening since he was back in school. He couldn’t help but wish that he might be able to spend more evenings in this manner. More specifically, that he could spend more evenings like this with Neville.

All too soon dessert was finished and Draco blinked sleepily. Neville smiled warmly as he offered him a hand, “Come on now, best get you back to bed so you can rest.” Draco moved too quickly to get up and found his pain and stiffness had worsened. The wine had not helped his swimming head either. Before he lost his balance, Neville’s arm tucked quickly around his waist, supporting him as they moved slowly down the hall.

Neville spoke with a slight grimace on his face, “Think I might have let you overdo it a bit. And it’s time for your potions again too. I’m sorry Draco. I was having such a pleasant evening that I didn’t want to see it end. It was selfish of me and unfair to you after you were injured today.”

Draco wasn’t complaining as Neville’s strong arm tightened around him. Honestly, you would think he had never got off based on the way his body responded to Neville’s touch. He finally managed to speak at least. “You don’t need to apologize. I was having a nice time as well… best food and company I’ve had in a long time. I’ll be fine once I’m dosed and settled, but before that, could you direct me to the lav, please.”

“Of course.” Neville helped him into a small bathroom and pointed out everything including extra toothbrushes. Once he made sure Draco would be alright on his own, he stepped outside the door and waited while his guest readied himself for bed. Yes, Neville was indulging in the excuse of Draco’s injuries to touch and be close to the young man. He felt a little guilty about it, but considering Draco had only ever dated women and was engaged to a woman at one point, Neville had no reason to hope that there could be more with his crush. 

The Gryffindor had been terrified when he saw Draco unconscious and bloody on the ground as rain pelted down on his abused body. He had scooped him into his arms almost without thought and apparated them away from the gathering crowds. 

He supposed afterwards that he should have taken the injured man straight to St. Mungo’s, but instinctively he had known Draco would want to avoid further magical entanglements. Thankfully, even as he laid the beaten man on his bed, Neville had known Luna would somehow sense she was needed. She had arrived only moments later. Now all those tense, fear-filled moments were behind him but Neville couldn’t shake the desire to keep Draco close. He knew he would have to overcome these feelings at some point, but for now, he was waiting with a smile and a strong, supportive arm, when Draco emerged from the bathroom. Neville helped his guest to the spare bedroom and turned back the bed, before easing him down to sit on the edge. He quickly retrieved some water and the potions Luna had left. After he made sure Draco took them as directed, Neville urged him to lie back as he tucked the covers around him.

Draco merely chuckled as Neville fussed over him like a mother hen, but was secretly touched to be cared for in such a way. Neville finally went to leave as Draco’s eyes grew heavy from the potions. “Breakfast is bright and early around here, but feel free to sleep in if you need the rest. I’ll be sure to leave you something if you’re not up when I need to head to work. I would like to show you something tomorrow though… if you are up to it that is.” Draco returned the small smile from his host, but barely managed a nod. Neville took his cue to let the man rest, “Sleep well, Draco. I’m just down the hall if you need me.” Just as he turned to go, Neville seemed to remember something, turning back towards the bed. Draco watched as Neville approached and placed his wand beside him on the nightstand once again. At Draco’s slightly raised brow, Neville spoke softly, “You left it in my room, probably just forgot. I thought you would feel safer with it beside you.” He gave a simple shrug and turned to go. As Neville pulled the door closed, he heard a sleepy, ‘Thank you.’ With a welcomed warmth in his heart, he got himself ready for bed, unable to prevent thoughts of his guest from filling his dreams.

{*} {*} {*}

The smell of bacon and coffee woke Draco from his sleep, a gnawing ache in his stomach indicating it had been too long since dinner. Sitting up carefully, he found that he did feel much better; while he was still quite sore, his headache had eased substantially. He soon padded his way into the kitchen in his borrowed slippers in search of a cup of coffee. While he would always enjoy his tea, he had gotten into the habit of a strong cup of coffee to start his day during his travels. It could hardly be avoided when you travelled in Italy or America, where a decent cup of tea is practically impossible to find. Neville was already showered and dressed for the day, and Draco lamented his chance to see that well-toned body fresh from the shower again.

Neville smiled warmly when he caught sight of Draco, his sleep mussed hair an endearing sight that quickly imprinted itself into Neville’s mind. He passed over a mug of hot coffee and gestured Draco to the table. “I see you made it up after all,” he said with a smile. “Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes, cream and sugar is on the table.”

Draco did as instructed, watching Neville going about his morning activities. He quickly noticed that unlike last night, Neville was using magic. A sweet smell wafted from the warm oven, and Draco could see several bowls on the counter slowly stirring themselves. As he watched, Neville went from bowl to bowl adding ingredients, blueberries for one, cranberries and orange zest for another, followed by lemon zest and poppy seeds, then chopped pecans and cinnamon in the last. Once the bowls were mixing again, Neville opened the oven, pulling out sheets of perfectly baked scones. With a wave of his wand, he sent them into baskets, which he then began floating to a small dumbwaiter located at the far right side of the kitchen. He paused as a thought occurred to him, “I know it’s too early but would you like to try them? What’s your favorite?” 

Draco loved raspberry scones with clotted cream, but everything Neville had made looked and smelled delicious. He picked the cranberry-orange and the cinnamon-pecan for good measure. He could have a taste now to be polite and save some for later, since scones weren’t the usual fare for breakfast. Neville only chuckled and transferred the chosen baked goods into a basket, covering them with a cloth to keep warm. The rest flew through the small door, where they promptly disappeared, where to, Draco didn’t know.

As soon as the next batch of scones was in the oven, Neville served breakfast. Two plates loaded with bacon and fried eggs along with slices of toast, butter and jam, and more fresh hot coffee. Draco felt positively spoiled as he joined Neville in devouring the delicious meal. After they both finished, he got to his feet and insisted on helping to clear the table and wash up while Neville set about making a new batch of scones. Draco noticed that he added savory ingredients to these, such as cheese, ground pepper, and olives. His curiosity was intense, but he didn’t want to interfere with Neville’s obvious routine. 

He was just about to ask what he else he could do to help, when they were both surprised by the loud pop of apparition within the flat. Draco blinked as he looked down and saw an unfamiliar house-elf, holding what appeared to be a bundle of laundry. “Master Longbottom. I have brought Master Malfoy clothes and a message from his parents, sir.” 

Neville cleared up Draco’s confusion quickly, “Meet Soames. He’s my Gran’s house-elf. Considering your parents’ house arrest and the press, I figured it was easier to let Soames carry the message to your parents instead of another owl they might ignore. Besides, your clothes were bloody and needed to be laundered. I wasn’t sure if you would want them back so Soames was charged with procuring some things from your home.

Draco could only imagine what his parents may have sent considering he wasn’t really staying at home but he was still grateful for Neville’s thoughtfulness. 

“Thank you, Soames.” Soames merely handed over the parcel with a nod, followed by a note Draco recognized as his mother’s handwriting. 

“If there is nothing further, Masters, I shall return to m’lady.” Once Neville had thanked him as well, assured him that nothing else was required, and asked him to send his love to his grandmother, Soames disappeared promptly with another loud pop. Draco was still standing there with his parcel and note when Neville spoke again.

“If you would like to shower and get dressed, you can join me downstairs,” Neville pointed towards a door at the back of the kitchen, “so I can show you my surprise and quell that violent curiosity I can see as plain as the nose on your face.” Draco was a bit embarrassed to be so obvious but still smiled at Neville’s gentle teasing. “Through the door, downstairs, then back in the rear entrance. I’ll be waiting.” He had turned back to his work before stopping suddenly, looking back over his shoulder he added, “Don’t forget to take your potions if you need them.” Draco hid his smirk as he shooed Neville back to his work while he headed for his room and the shower, the pleasant humming of his companion working followed him down the hall.

Draco dropped the parcel on the bed and opened his mother’s note. It contained the usual outrage at the attack, fear for his safety, demands that he return home to be cared for properly, along with the questions about his general well-being. He was actually surprised by his mother’s subtle curiosity, expressed in statements regarding him being cared for by Mister Longbottom, even though he was an “honorable pureblood and heir to the Longbottom line.” There was no direct correspondence from his father, as his mother generally expressed the thoughts for both of them. He shook his head, wishing his mother didn’t feel the need to pry into his love life or lack thereof. His parents had known of his inclinations towards both sexes since puberty began; however, duty had dictated a marriage and he was an obedient son. And look what that has gotten me. Still, she didn’t have to go assuming things without reason. He would have to send her a message later, but he had no intentions of getting her hopes up, even though he was relaxed and at home with Neville. He was surprised when he opened the parcel and found jeans, a t-shirt, and a soft, dark-blue jumper, along with leather loafers. Either his mother or one of their own house elves must have directed Soames to the house in Spinner’s End for his clothes, and he was grateful anew.

After quickly showering and dressing, he drank a potion for his discomfort and another cup of coffee before heading downstairs to meet Neville. 

The door opened directly outside onto a short landing that overlooked a small yard. Once outside, Draco could see that the stairs continued up towards the roof and he wanted to explore; however, he wanted to see Neville more. _Maybe Neville can give me a tour later_.

The morning sun shone down on a yard filled with raised beds, overflowing with all kinds of plants. The recent rain left the garden glistening with hundreds of raindrops, reflecting sunlight into small rainbows throughout the beds. The breeze blew cool and moist across his face, the scents on the air smelling clean and fresh. The only space left in the yard at all were the walkways between the beds. Turning at the bottom of the stairs, Draco noticed a gate in the tall privacy fence, which he could sense warded the property. Facing the building again, he reached for the door, noticing that it looked like a large service entrance and wondered, not for the first time, what Neville was doing here. _Well, only one way to find out_. Draco pulled firmly on the door and let himself in.

His eyes took a moment to adjust after being in the bright sunlight outside, but soon he found himself… in an industrial-grade kitchen. It was larger and brighter than the homey one upstairs. Cold stainless-steel and white tiles adorned almost every surface of the cavernous room. Draco walked in further, uncertain of where to go. Just as he thought that, Neville walked through a swinging door to the left of the large window that opened through the far wall of the kitchen.

“At last! Come in, come in, let me show you the place before it gets busy!” 

Neville motioned with his hand and Draco followed. He was led into a large front room that was just as cozy as the flat upstairs. A glass display case and counter to his right brimmed with pastries, as well as the fresh baked scones. Kettles and pots were steaming behind the case with what appeared to be hot water for tea and more coffee. He noticed the tins containing various blends of tea that could be brewed as requested, lined up along the back counter as well. What appeared to be a large chalkboard on the wall above the register, carried a written list of various butties and soups for ordering. The large room was scattered with small covered tables and chairs with soft cushioned seats, while along the walls were sofas and comfy chairs with low tables in front of them. Shades of red, brown, pink, and yellow created a warm and welcoming atmosphere in the large space. The front wall was filled with one large multi-paned window that faced directly out onto Diagon Alley, and the entrance, located to the left of the window, awaited opening with a small bell dangling overhead. 

Neville had remained quiet as Draco took in everything but seemed about to burst waiting for a response. “Well, what do you think?”

Draco shrugged a bit, “It seems like a nice little shop. Do you bake for a deal on your rent or something like that?”

Neville shook his head before grabbing Draco’s hand, pulling him out of the front door, and turning him to face the large sign outside. Giant gold letters, outlined in chocolate brown on a pink background proclaimed clearly: Longbottom’s Tea Emporium and Cafe. 

Neville spoke with dry humor as Draco looked at the storefront, “I did all the baking because it is my shop. This is what I came home to do, much to the disappointment of my Gran.” He shrugged in turn as Draco faced him, “I’ve had enough of fighting, and I like making people feel good. Not to mention I am not too bad of a cook.” Draco laughed out loud at that as they moved back inside.

“Well, I’ve only had two meals to judge from, but they were both delicious. You’ve certainly made me feel better than I have in quite some time.” Draco blushed and looked away as if realizing he had given more away than he wished to. Clearing his throat, he changed the subject, “So how long have you been open? I don’t recall seeing your shop before.”

“Just two weeks so far. I didn’t come home until spring, and once I knew what I wanted to do, I had to work fast to be ready in time for the new school year and the influx of shoppers and students. With all of the damage from the war, finding the space was easy. Then it was a matter of repairing, painting, decorating and such. It has been a lot of hard work, but I am happy with the results, knowing that I have something that is truly mine. You know what I mean?”

Draco nodded, “I know exactly what you mean. I’ve spent the past year searching for the same thing.” He didn’t need to elaborate, he knew that Neville understood without any further words. 

When Neville returned to his morning preparations, Draco wondered what he should do. Neville, being far more astute than people gave him credit for, inquired, “I thought... if you wanted to that is, you could hang out in the back, help out a little if you feel up to it, just see how things go. 

“I want to talk to you about something this evening, and I doubt Luna would want you going anywhere until she gives the all clear anyway.” Considering what had just happened yesterday and the possibility of roving reporters from The Prophet, Neville added, “You don’t even have to come out front if you don’t want to. Nobody has to know you are here at all. I can even put a spell over the kitchen window if you like. It will be no problem for me at all, but it’s not like you’re relegated to the back either. When you feel comfortable, I would love your company and help upfront too.”

Draco, looked around and thought for a minute before speaking, “Alright. I think I might enjoy just hanging out. How do you think I could help?”

Neville smiled broadly, pleased to have Draco around for a little while longer. Ushering him into the back room, he began, “Well, during lunch hours, it gets busy between the people who come in to eat and those who grab their food on the go. So you could help me by keeping up with the dishes from customers that actually eat in.” Neville realized he had asked a Malfoy to help with dishes and instantly looked sheepish, “Not that you have to do that though... I mean I have been managing fine by myself so far. It was just an idea, but… but you can… Oh, nevermind.”

Draco laughed at Neville’s rambling, there was the boy he remembered from their school days still tucked away inside the gorgeous man he had become. “It’s okay Neville. I can help with the dishes if you show me what to do. Is there anything else?”

Neville breathed a sigh of relief, “Well, we’ll see how it goes first. For lunch, I serve soups and butties, tea, coffee and the pastries. I also have several regulars that come early to pick up scones for their tea at home and such. That’s why I cook so many, you see.” He glanced over at Draco and the reassuring smile he received bolstered his confidence as he lay out his fledgling business for his new friend. “The soup is made ahead so only the sandwiches have to be put together. I only do lunch and tea so I get to have my mornings to myself and I don’t close too late. Maybe when I can afford more staff I might consider dinner as well, but for now this is enough. I limit my use of magic out front but back here I use whatever I need to. How about we get through lunch service, see how you are feeling, and then go from there, alright?”

Draco smiled, slightly confused, “Sure, but why do you limit magic out front when you have a shop in Diagon Alley?”

“I know it sounds a bit odd, but since we will be having such a large influx of muggle-born witches and wizards entering Hogwarts, I thought it would be nice to have a _normal_ place for them where they could eat, have a cup of tea, and relax.” He shrugged a bit, “I know it’s probably silly to you, but I think it’s a sound idea. Our world can be a bit overwhelming at times. Harry and Hermione helped me learn and understand muggle customs, well, them and my travels. And I do good business with the pureblood witches and wizards too. They come in for the novelty, but they come back for the food.” Neville laughed at his own joke, not the least bit conceited about his skill in the kitchen.

Draco didn’t think Neville’s shop was silly at all. He admired him for taking the chance on something different and putting his skills to good use. Though he did think about of all the plants out back and wondered what had become of Neville’s talent for herbology. Pushing up the sleeves of his jumper and resting his hands on his hips, Draco praised, “I think your shop is great Neville, truly. Now, you best get to showing me what you need before customers begin to arrive.”

And so, the first part of the day passed in a whirl of activity, Neville deftly handling the front, serving his customers with kind smiles and a gentle nature. Draco helped keep things in order in the back, sending refills of scones and pastries out the pass through window when Neville asked. He had plenty of time to just watch Neville’s ease with the customers, which belied the nervous little boy inside and he was so unfailingly kind and courteous with his customers. Draco could only admire him all the more, not that he wasn’t equally occupied watching the shift of muscle beneath Neville’s shirt or the flex of his buttocks when he bent over to get something from the case. Yes, Draco was just as busy admiring the body as he was the man. He could tell that even after only two weeks, Neville already had a steady stream of regular customers, a sure sign of success among the often fickle tastes of witches and wizards. And the shop still had a couple of weeks before Hogwarts’ shopping really hit full swing. Draco could easily spot the few muggles who came in, noting how they relaxed quickly in the familiar shop. Neville was correct is his assumptions and he helped put the muggles at ease right away. Draco wondered absently if Neville needed any investors. He was so comfortable being here in the shop with Neville that investing in the venture was easy to consider, though secretly he contemplated whether he would like being here in the shop more often than a simple investor might.

When lunch was over, Draco was starting to feel tired. Neville pulled out a stool and insisted that he sit down. “Luna is always late for lunch. She gets so busy and distracted with her work. Still, she will probably come over on her lunch break to check on you, and she will hex me for sure if she sees you running around the kitchen helping.” 

Draco did as instructed and watched Neville checking the soups being kept warm by charmed pots and fixing sandwiches for each of them before time for tea service to begin. They ate in a comfortable silence, enjoying their tea. 

Just as the first few customers trickled in for tea, Luna appeared. Draco felt guilty leaving Neville to man the shop alone as Luna promptly began marching him out the door and back upstairs. As he winked and triggered the magic that began assembling sandwiches to order, Neville assured him that he would be fine. Draco couldn’t stop the huge grin he gave Neville in response.

Luna chastised him gently all the way upstairs about not healing properly if he continues to overdo it. Under her surprisingly firm instructions, Draco changed back into his borrowed pajamas, was put to bed, examined, and dosed with his potions. Luna smiled kindly as she prepared to leave, “You are doing well Draco, but you still need to rest. Neville can handle the shop. You take a nap, and he’ll be up before you know it. See you tomorrow then.” Draco barely had a chance to voice his thanks before she was gone. He wouldn’t admit she was right, but he was pretty sure he fell asleep before the back door closed.

{*} {*} {*}

When Draco awoke, he could tell he had slept long time, from the lack of light and noise coming in his window. He stretched languidly, feeling well rested and hungry. Listening for a moment, Draco smiled at the noises that told him Neville was in the kitchen. That knowledge and the sinful aroma drifting into his room, finally pulled him from the bed. He found Neville pulling a pan from the oven. Draco crossed his arms and enjoyed the view until Neville straightened and turned, catching him staring.

“Well, hello sleepyhead. I didn’t think you would sleep the day away, but I probably let you do too much this morning. Ready for dinner?”

Draco smiled, “Dinner sounds and smells great! I’m sorry if you waited late for me though” He sank into his chair at the table as Neville began to plate up their food. He noticed a bottle of wine waiting on the table so went ahead and poured them each a glass. “I suppose I was more tired than I realized. Luna didn’t hex you though; did she?”

Laughter echoed throughout the kitchen, adding to the warmth Draco already felt. “No, she didn’t hex me. Nearly lectured my ear off though. I swear she only stopped because she had to get back to the hospital. She was so busy fussing at me that she didn’t even eat, had to take her sandwich with her. And as for dinner, I have gotten into the habit of eating later since I have to close up the shop, so you timed it perfectly.”

Draco tried to apologize, but it was hard when he kept laughing at the notion of Luna scolding Neville. He was still chuckling when he was presented with a plate filled with a mouth-watering, cheesy lasagna. Crusty garlic bread sat in a basket on the table, and a bowl of salad sat beside his plate. Along with the red wine, it was a veritable feast. 

Draco looked at Neville, sitting across from him with an expectant look on his face. “If you keep feeding me like this, I won’t be able to fit in my pants when I leave here.”

Neville smiled but looked thoughtful for a moment before finally mumbling, “I enjoy… having someone to cook for.” Draco was startled by the quiet comment, but Neville continued before he felt he had to say something. “And actually, that is sort of what I wanted to talk with you about. Not the food,” he added hastily, “The, uhm… leaving.”

Draco paused mid-chew, looking at Neville in confused silence. He reached for his wine and swallowed down his bite of food with a large gulp. He set the glass back down carefully before addressing his host once more. “What about my leaving? What are you saying, Neville?” He couldn’t help his wariness after all he had been through recently.

Neville took a drink as well, then sat back in his chair, hoping to encourage Draco to relax as he spoke. “Well, after we talked last night, I started thinking about our situations. We’re not that dissimilar in what we want. Something of our own, a place to belong, a bit of peace after all we’ve endured. I came up with an idea that could… benefit us both. At least for a bit. I only needed to see how things went today before I brought it up with you.”

Draco was still utterly confused but he trusted Neville. And how odd was it that, a boy he only bothered with in school long enough to hex or torment, had become the only man he felt he could trust. He took a shaky breath before asking, “And just what is your idea?”

Neville sat his wine glass down and leaned forward on his elbows, bringing them closer. “What would you say to working with me in the shop for a while? I need the help and I’ve enjoyed your company.” He chuckled as Draco quirked up an eyebrow in a doubt. “I mean it! I’ll pay you a regular salary and don’t even try to argue with me about it, I insist. You could stay here even... if you like, rather than apparating in. You would be able to avoid any run-ins you’d rather not have. I mean... my guest room is going to waste, and I think you need a place where you can start fresh. Hey, as a boss it would be ideal. You can’t very well miss work when you’re living with the boss, now can you?” He watched closely as Draco’s face transformed from surprise, to disbelief, and finally pleasure which he tried to hide. Neville wouldn’t deny that his offer served the purely selfish goal of keeping Draco in his flat for a while longer. He wasn’t really lying when he said he enjoyed having someone to cook for, but what he omitted was that he enjoyed cooking for Draco in particular. The persistent fantasy of holding that slim body bent over this very table and fucking him senseless as a dessert option just wouldn’t leave him alone either.

Draco could not believe what Neville was offering him. They were practically strangers until Neville rescued him from Ron’s drunken assault, and now, he was offering to have him live here. Logically, he had to admit that it was a good idea. He couldn’t get a job anywhere else, and he needed to get out of Snape’s house for his own mental health. Truth be told, he had been more relaxed and at peace during his short time with Neville than he had been anywhere since before the war. Not that it was the deciding factor, but he did happen to think that if he lived here he might be treated to more chances to see Neville fresh from the shower… maybe without a towel. Draco physically jerked, pushing that thought out of his mind, before he ended up hard at the dinner table. Maybe being so close to Neville was a bad idea; it wasn’t like he could just throw himself at the guy. He finally realized that Neville was waiting for a reply. 

“I’m… I’m surprised actually, but also flattered that you would offer your home and a job. I’m not sure you realize what you might be getting yourself into, if you take me on however.”

Neville read the news; he knew there were plenty of people just like Ron who wouldn’t spare one kind thought for a Malfoy. That just made him more determined to keep Draco here where he could shield and protect him as much as possible. Everyone deserved a second chance, and Draco had been trying all on his own without support. Neville wanted to give him that support. “I think I have a pretty good notion of what I’ll be in for.”

Draco couldn’t believe how determined Neville was, surely he didn’t understand all the implications. “What about Luna? Won’t me living here affect her? ”

Neville sat back again, looking truly surprised, “Luna? What would she have to do with my plans?”

“But... I… I thought you two were…” Draco noticed Neville’s confused expression. “You’re not? Someone else maybe? I don’t know Neville, I just wouldn’t want my presence to be getting in the way of any romantic affiliations. I apologize if I was mistaken.”

Neville laughed out loud for a long moment, “Draco, Luna and I are just very dear friends and have never dated. There isn’t anyone else either. I haven’t really had a chance to pursue a relationship since the war. I figure you understand that as well.” Draco nodded sheepishly, still blushing from Neville’s laughter. But he was bowled over when Neville continued, “Besides Draco, you should probably know, I’m gay.”

Draco swore his heart did a flip in his chest. “You’re… gay?” he exclaims, “but you never… when we were in school… I’ve never seen you with…” Draco was mentally kicking himself over his stumbling reply.

Neville smiled kindly, a distinct, ‘Mmm’ made in reply. “I was just realizing it with certainty during our last couple of years at school. But, as you can imagine, so much was going on at that time that I couldn’t exactly explore beyond wishful fantasies. Since then, it’s been hard. I’ve tried to go on a few dates, more so when I was travelling than now. I’m not the casual type, and I don’t want to waste time on someone who won't last.” He smiled at Draco once more and picked up his fork, “Well, our meal is getting cold while we debate. If you have no other objections, what do you say to my offer?”

Draco could barely contain the sudden surge of hope Neville’s words gave to his fledgling attraction. There were no other objections and there was nowhere else he wanted to be right now. “In that case, I accept.” He lifted his glass, “A toast to new opportunities!”

Neville joined him in the toast, “Terrific! In that case, consider this our celebratory dinner. Save room for dessert!”

Both of them were laughing as they resumed their meal. For once, the future looked bright indeed.

{*} {*} {*}


	2. Chapter 2

Draco’s days now passed in a blur of work, conversations, meals, and laughter. For some, it might have seemed a chaotic change, but for Draco—it was perfect. Neville and he worked well together, and for former-enemies-turned-flatmates, they got along better than anyone would have expected. 

Draco had collected his things from Spinner’s End the very next morning, but had waited until the weekend to visit his parents. Neville regularly took off Sundays to spend with his Gran, so it was an ideal opportunity. Informing his parents of his new living situation and current career plans had been met with grudging acceptance by both parents. It was not what they wanted for him, but they both understood what the war had cost, especially when it came to opportunities for their son to make his way in the world. They assumed it would only be temporary, until things improved. Draco didn’t have the heart to tell them that it could become more than that.

Over the past two weeks, Draco had learned many things about Neville. He learned that Neville never gave up his love of herbology, the Gryffindor still incorporated it into his everyday life. Neville grew and dried almost all of the domestic teas he served in the cafe, which explained why the yard and rooftop were crammed with beds of plants. He only imported the more exotic tea blends or leaves from the Orient and elsewhere. When Draco had had the chance to explore those first few days, the stairs had led him to the rooftop garden. Neville had even managed to fit in a small greenhouse and drying racks for the teas there. Draco knew Britain’s climate certainly didn’t lend itself to the growth of some teas, but with Neville’s talent, some Muggle techniques, and a bit of magic, the gardens thrived. It was all very well thought out and methodical, something that Draco wouldn’t have previously thought Neville capable of. Each additional day he spent with the Gryffindor, he learned how much the boy had grown and matured to become a very fine man indeed.

Draco had also found out how Neville came by his newly chiseled form; the body that made him burn with desire and had fueled his dreams and fantasies for the past two weeks. 

Early Saturday morning, after another night of sexual frustration, Draco watched Neville disappear into his bedroom and reappear in a worn pair of Muggle cargo shorts, leather hiking boots, and a white cotton vest that he swore barely could be called a garment, for as little as it covered. 

“Tea, won’t grow itself.” Neville called out cheerfully, heading towards the front door, “Have to catch up on some work outside so I’m free to see Gran tomorrow. You can come along if you like.” 

Still admiring the muscled chest beneath Neville’s shirt, it took Draco a minute to process the invitation. 

“Sure… Sounds good,” the charmed snake mumbled. “I’ll be right out.”

Draco scurried to his room to look for ‘outside’ clothes. He had nothing that fit the criteria of course, ending up slipping on his oldest pair of jeans and a simple T-shirt with some trainers he would never admit he owned. He stepped out on the landing and stopped in his tracks, seeing Neville hoist a wooden railway sleeper over his shoulder and carry it to one of the beds. Thick muscles rippled and flexed without any apparent exertion as Neville laid down the beam. One side of that particular bed showed signs of rot, and the adept gardener began to carefully remove the old wood. 

Draco made his way down the stairs, mesmerized by Neville’s arms, back, and most especially his arse in those shorts. Coming to stand behind the tanned man, Draco watched a small trickle of sweat begin to roll down the nape of his neck, unconsciously he licked his lips as he had the powerful urge to bend over and lick the sweat from Neville’s warmed skin. The sound of a smooth baritone voice broke his focus, before he actually gave in and did exactly that.

“Hey Draco, do you think you could hold this board in place while I remove the old wood to fit the new beam? It’ll keep me from having to rebuild half of the bed. If you don’t mind, that is.” 

Draco managed to mumble an affirmative and moved to take the board from Neville. He was dangerously close to doing anything the man asked as long as it allowed him to see him or smell him or simply hear his voice. This strong pull—Draco didn’t understand it. Why did he desire this man with a passion no one else had ever been able to inspire in him? Most would chalk it up to the Florence Nightingale effect, but Draco knew it was more than that. The Slytherin wasn’t a typical wizard, and he didn’t subscribe to hero worship nor celebrity crushes. He was more accustomed to others having crushes on _him_ , so this new found obsession with Neville was unsettling—but in the most delicious of ways.

When they finished the beam repair, Neville headed off to another task. While working, he had explained why he was doing the manual labor and not using his wand. It was the simplest reason: because he could. He was young and fit and enjoyed being outside. The sense of accomplishment was greater than if he’d just used his wand. Draco nodded and understood the reason while he admired the results. Draco fought to control his breathing as Neville threw a large bag of compost over his shoulder and began to climb the stairs to the roof. It might have been a workout for Neville, but it was all show for Draco. Every movement of the Gryffindor's body held his undivided attention. 

He followed Neville up the stairs, biting his lip to stop himself from moaning out loud as calf and thigh muscles pushed and pulled with each step. Draco longed to reach out and squeeze one of the lovely cheeks shifting back and forth but restrained himself lest Neville drop his heavy load or fall. He continued to follow along, helping when he could, until they had to shower and ready the shop. Draco’s only regret was not finding a way to get another unhindered view of Neville’s sun-kissed chest after their showers.

{*} {*} {*}

Dinner with Neville had become the highlight of the day for Draco, being able to share good food, good wine and even better conversation. Many nights after eating, they lounged on the sofa, sipping their wine and continuing their conversation late into the evening. Each night, it became more of a struggle to leave Neville’s company and go to his own bed. Draco began to wonder what it would be like to fall asleep snuggled against the tall Gryffindor, among other things. The more he was around Neville, the more he craved physical intimacy with him.

Normally, the Slytherin would have made a move long before now, since he had always been comfortable in the role of aggressor when it came to dating. If he wasn’t so nervous about his own lack of experience with men, it would have been easier to get up the nerve to make a move on his flatmate. Nevermind the fact that he wasn’t even certain Neville was attracted to him. Draco had always been confident in his looks but that didn’t mean his looks were to Neville’s tastes. Nor did it stand to reason that because Neville was gay, he would accept advances from any guy. Given their history, Neville would have every reason to think Draco was merely taking the piss if he made a move on him. He’d already told Draco he wasn’t a casual sort of guy. Draco couldn’t say how he knew, but he was certain that if he ever became involved with Neville, it would be anything but casual. 

However, there was something else that made Draco hold back; _he_ wanted to be the one being pursued… the conquest. He had never felt this way before. Neville’s physique seemed to dwarf his own lean frame, but it didn’t make Draco feel weak or less as some might expect, instead it made him feel safe and protected, feelings he had seldom felt in his life, certainly not for the last several years. His fantasies about being taken by the strong, handsome Gryffindor, sometimes roughly and repeatedly, didn’t help his focus during their long evening conversations either. It surprised Draco how intensely he desired to be claimed and dominated by Neville—Malfoys were submissive to no one. That superiority, that sense of entitlement and power was ingrained almost from birth, but Draco could not stop his longings for the opposite. 

After two weeks enduring the daily temptation and constant frustration of living with the man, Draco was pushing his limits. He had become the ‘Master of Silent Wanking’ as he ruefully referred to himself, but something had to give, and soon.

Sunday came and went with visits to their respective families and separate dinners, only a brief conversation over their day shared before they went to bed. During the few hours of their separation, Draco had missed Neville, missed the casual intimacy when they were together, and all because they had spent one day apart. Staring at the bedroom ceiling after another frantic wank, he realized that he had it _bad_. Draco tossed and turned late into the night, oversleeping the next morning. 

Feeling guilty, Draco rushed to get ready. He knew Neville had been up for over an hour, if not longer, and had to prepare everything himself. Still damp from the shower, barely protecting his modesty with his towel held loosely in front of his groin, Draco opened his closet, wishing he could have gotten himself off, like he usually did in the morning. After pulling out the first shirt his hand touched, he dropped the towel where he stood; he had barely shoved one arm into the cotton garment when his door opened.

Neville was on his way down to the shop and running a bit late so he needed Draco to send along the last batch of scones when they came out of the oven. He knew he was out of the shower, at any rate, since he heard the water cut off, and he really did need to get downstairs. Draco wouldn’t mind if he stuck his head in to let him know, right? They were flatmates after all.

Opening the spare bedroom door, Neville began, “Hey mate, sorry to burst in on you, but I…” 

Draco was practically naked; a white, long-sleeved shirt covered only one arm and rested over his shoulder but that was all. Neville swallowed hard as his eyes skimmed over damp blonde hair, narrow shoulders, trim waist, and a perfect, tight arse topping long slim legs. Stray beads of water rolled down the length of Draco’s back, gathering at his sacrum before disappearing between the cheeks of his lovely arse, beckoning Neville to follow their paths along his body with his own tongue. His cock, suddenly throbbing painfully in his trousers, decided to take those thoughts and run away with them. 

Neville was frozen; mortified that he had walked in on Draco, but at the same time, he was desperate to see more… _do_ more. He couldn’t seem to speak or move as he waited for the angry outburst he was certain was coming.

Standing immobilized, Draco’s first instinct was to recover his towel to wrap around himself then yell about the invasion of privacy, however, he had a small advantage. In the mirror on his closet door, he could clearly see Neville’s reflection and... lust. His reaction certainly cleared things up a bit and bolstered Draco’s confidence. Considering the built up tension and frustration he had been living with, the Slytherin could not be blamed for his next actions. Feeling his own cock twitching and filling with blood, just from knowing he was the object of this particular man’s desire, Draco smirked before turning to face Neville, slowly easing on his shirt but making no move to button it. 

With the inviting smile he had mastered during their school days, he cocked his head slightly and looked at his still motionless flatmate. “See something you like, Longbottom?” Draco didn’t miss the gaze that raked him from head to toe and came to rest on his swelling cock. Nor did the growing bulge in Neville’s trousers escape his scrutiny.

It was the use of the familiar moniker from school that snapped Neville out of his daze. His eyes darted up with guilt, expecting the condescending sneer that always went with that name, but he only found a twinkle of humor in the smile Draco sent his way, along with a raised eyebrow as he waited for him to answer. Draco stood in front of him proudly aroused, and judging from the tightness of his own trousers, Neville thought the answer was self-evident. The corner of his mouth quirked up in a saucy grin when he finally answered, “Yes, actually, I do see something I like—very much.”

That was all Draco needed to know. He walked right up to Neville, cupped his face in both hands, “Good!” and pressed their mouths firmly together. 

The Gryffindor had a moment of hesitation before everything clicked. He hummed against Draco’s lips as one hand circled around to clutch the back of his flatmate’s shirt, while the other settled in Draco’s hair, gripping firmly and angling his head to take control. Releasing the bunched fabric, he caressed the lean flank underneath, before tracing the curve of a hip and coming to rest on one buttock to pull the blonde more tightly into his body.

Draco moaned at the feel of Neville’s calloused hands on his naked flesh, opening his mouth wider to the warm tongue pressing in to claim him. He could not stop the slight buck of his hips as Neville cupped his arse and drew him closer, the friction a welcome relief, except that he wanted more. He let his own hands wander down over Neville’s shoulders and back until he could finally grab the arse that had been tormenting him for weeks. Smiling into Neville’s mouth, he felt the press of an erection against his own and ground himself shamelessly against it, reveling in the loud moan he managed to illicite. Obviously, they had both been holding back and were intent on making up for lost time. Draco, for one, had every intention of seeing how far they could carry this... 

Sadly, the smell of scones beginning to burn broke the spell.

“Bollocks,” Neville mumbled against Draco’s lips and reluctantly pulled away. “I...need to… Oh man, but I want… Can we...” 

The odor from the kitchen was growing steadily worse and Neville could see a growing cloud of dark smoke out of the corner of his eye, but he was loathe to leave the enticing delight in his hands when he had craved it for so long.

Draco smiled, Neville’s obvious reluctance to leave him making it much easier to push the man away and towards the kitchen. “Go on, take care of that. I’m not going anywhere.” He chuckled softly at the clear relief he saw on Neville’s face. “I’ll finish getting dressed and join you in a minute.” When Neville still hesitated, Draco gave him another chaste kiss followed by a swat to his well-muscled arse. 

“Alright, I’ll go!” Neville smiled happily before turning to run for the kitchen, his wand already in hand. 

Draco watched him leave, then turned to finish dressing. His neglected erection was still begging for some attention, but Draco didn’t touch himself. He wanted to savor the delicious tension, from moments ago, for as long as he could. At least the results of his rash actions hinted at much more pleasurable activities later, perhaps even tonight after work. He couldn’t help but hum in anticipation as he paid a little extra care to his appearance, knowing now that Neville was actually looking at him with desire; he failed to notice he was humming one of Neville’s favorite songs.

After opening the windows to air out the smoke, Neville remade the batch of scones, leaving Draco to keep an eye on them. Together they managed to get the shop opened on time and without further mishap. Keeping their hands on their tasks and not each other proved to be a greater challenge.

{*} {*} {*}

Neville’s attention wasn’t at its best. More than once he served the wrong beverage or made a mistake on an order. He never did that; he was usually impeccable with his customers’ orders. However, today he kept trying to catch sight of Draco, while also trying to control his rampant libido. Draco still wore that same white, button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up above his wrists for work. The shirt was paired with black Muggle jeans that molded to his lean legs and tight arse. Neville couldn’t even look at him without remembering the pale perfection of his mostly naked body under his hands earlier.

Their fingers would linger as they passed things through the window, and their eyes would meet in deferred promise. When Neville had to venture to the back or Draco came up to restock the case, it was impossible for a hand not to press lightly to the small of a back or cup, temptingly, for a brief moment over a rounded cheek. Both men thought they were being very discreet, but some of their customers noticed, knowing smiles and whispers following the two obviously smitten men’s actions as they went about their work. The besotted duo didn’t hear the chatter of their customers, nearly oblivious to everything but each other.

“I wondered how long it would take them to act on their attraction. Those two have been besotted with each other for _weeks_ already,” said one rather short and portly older witch to her tall companion as she waited for her tea. “Would you ever have thought, Minerva, that you would live to see any Slytherin with one of your Gryffindors?”

“No, I’m not sure I could ever have imagined it, Pomona—not without seeing it for myself.” 

The two elder witches had made a practice of stopping into the shop to support their former student whenever they were in Diagon Alley. It had been a surprise when they saw young Malfoy appear and begin working quietly alongside Neville. 

“Indeed,” said the Headmistress, “I worried about Malfoy’s intentions, but thus far, he seems to have made Longbottom quite content.” Peering at her tea through her wire rimmed spectacles, she observed the milk beginning to curdle because lemon had been added. She sighed and showed the cup to her colleague and close friend, “I do hope they shag each other soon. It appears we must despair of a decent cup of tea until they do.” 

Her friend eyed the pitiful beverage and looked forlornly at her companion, before giving a flick of her wand to refresh the tea—without the lemon this time. The two stately witches caught sight of the love-struck young men, rubbing up against each other, and merely chuckled. They had seen far worse things than a cup of curdled tea during the war, and the sight of young love was worth a bit of inconvenience, for a time.

By the time the lunch rush was over, both men were ready to explode, and desperate for the touch of the other. Neville took his job seriously, thanks to his Gran stressing a strong work ethic. But when the last customer passed through the door leaving the front of the shop empty, he had taken all the waiting he could. After spelling a sign on the front door that said “Be back in twenty minutes,” Neville locked the door. In moments, his long legs had taken him into the kitchen where Draco was making them both a bacon butty for their own lunch. He didn’t even glance up from his task.

“Draco?”

“Why don’t you sit down for once, and I’ll have these ready in a minute.” Draco finally looked up with a smile, but the look on Neville’s face caused him to stop what he was doing.

Neville knew exactly what he wanted, and he wasn’t waiting another minute to get it. He began again, “Draco… come here.”

Draco recognized the hunger on Neville’s face and felt his blood flow redirect itself southward. Swallowing thickly, he walked over to stand before Neville. 

“Yes?”

“Draco, I don’t really want a sandwich right now.”

“No?”

Neville shook his head slowly, his eyes already undressing his prey. “No.”

Draco never got a chance to reply. He swiftly found himself pressed up against the wall with Neville’s lips trying to devour him; one knee pushed firmly between his thighs, while those large hands roamed over his body in a very proprietary way. Draco loved it, yielding to whatever Neville wanted. He moaned softly into the kiss as the brunette sucked his tongue hungrily, only to gasp a moment later as thumbs rubbed his nipples roughly through his shirt at the same time as that knee pressed more firmly against his cock. Draco was beginning to feel as if he would combust before he even removed his trousers. He was keenly aware that Neville’s fingers were making quick work of his shirt buttons while that demanding mouth left his to move over his jaw to his ear, sucking sharply on his earlobe. Neville chuckled darkly as Draco’s hips thrust forward at the stimulation. Neville moved down to kiss along the pale throat, before licking a long stripe up from the now bared collar-bone to the sensitive spot behind Draco’s ear. The Slytherin prince could only whimper as fingers stroked his nipples to hardness, before they were pinched sharply, causing Neville’s name to escape his lips in a needy plea.

Neville could hardly believe he was being allowed access to everything he had ever fantasized about over the years. Draco Malfoy wanted him, and the power that thought brought was heady. He pulled back to observe his handiwork, yanking Draco’s shirt free from his jeans with one sharp jerk and pushing it open fully. 

Draco panted softly, his hands at his sides clutching at the wall as if he would fall without Neville supporting him. Thin lips became swollen and red from Neville’s forceful kiss, matching the state of his taut nipples. 

The Gryffindor ran his hands over the smooth, pale planes of Draco’s chest and abdomen before wrapping his fingers carefully around that beautiful pale neck, lightly pinning his prize with the hand at his throat and the knee between his legs. Neville had never felt this intense possessive urge with anyone he had ever dated; it felt as though Draco was always meant to be his, and he had no intention of letting him get away. Studying Draco’s face carefully for signs of fear or distress from his aggressive behavior, he observed dilated pupils, panted respirations, and an equally hungry look, as Draco licked his lips and waited in anticipation.

“Draco Malfoy,” Neville almost didn’t recognize the husky, low voice that came out when he spoke, but the full body shudder that passed through Draco at his words was worth it, “I have wanted you since we were students together.” When Draco’s eyes widened in surprise, the Gryffindor nodded as he continued, “You were the one I fantasized about during school… and beyond. I never thought for a moment that I had a chance… that you would want a man even… until this morning.” 

He let his free hand drift slowly down Draco’s chest and over his body, until he reached the button on those sinfully tight black jeans. Meeting those pale, grey eyes in challenge, he thumbed the button open and began to slowly lower the zip. Draco moaned softly again, thrusting his hips towards Neville’s body, his breath hitching sharply as knuckles rubbed over the swollen cock caged tightly in his dark cotton pants. Anticipation tingled along Draco’s skin when he realized he was totally at Neville’s mercy. The brunette had his torso pinned by the hand at his throat, and his lower body was immobilized by the thigh between his legs. He was feeling rather lightheaded from it all, if he was brutally honest with himself.

Neville tugged both pants and trousers down, until they rested around Draco’s lithe thighs, displaying his cock and balls fully. He stepped back from his soon to be lover and let his eyes rake over the luscious sight, letting Draco know how much it affected him as he palmed his own erection through his trousers. He watched his prey in silence, waiting for that last bit of pride to snap, while Draco slowly went mad with desire.

Draco had never had sex remotely like this… This consuming sense of passion, driving him out of his mind. Each nerve ending seemed alive; his entire body attuned to every touch Neville bestowed. He knew his cock was leaking obscenely, bobbing slowly against his stomach with the throb of his pulse. He looked up, finding Neville eyeing him hungrily. Draco flushed hotly, embarrassed and aroused to be scrutinized in this intimate way; he had never felt so admired and wanted by another person before. The Slytherin was surprised to realise how much he wanted this, wanted Neville, along with whatever that would entail. 

And there was no doubt that Neville wanted him. Neville, the man who didn’t do casual, wanted Draco, the man who had never been in a lasting, committed relationship with anyone, let alone someone as strong and virile as the man before him. 

The desire in the air was palpable as Neville waited for… something, but Draco wasn’t exactly certain what he wanted; all he knew was that he was desperate to feel the man’s touch again. 

He closed his eyes slowly as a shudder passed through his body. Unconsciously he tilted his hips forward as his head fell back against the wall to bare his throat. His lips parted, and in the softest voice he’d ever used, Draco begged, “Please.”

Neville smiled and stepped closer. “Please what Draco? What do you want me to do? Tell me.”

Draco’s brow furrowed. He had no idea what he wanted; he had never _been_ with a man. “I don’t.... I... Anything. Anything you want. Please. I need… Just _touch_ me.”

Neville pressed close once again, one hand cupping around the back of Draco’s neck as the other wrapped around his swollen prick and began to stroke slowly. He claimed willing lips once more, delighting in the gasp he swallowed but broke the kiss quickly. 

The Gryffindor huskily whispered, “Believe me, I have every intention of having you in every way I can manage. So fair warning. You won’t be leaving my bed tonight. But I can’t wait quite that long. Right now, we have ten to fifteen minutes, and I need to taste you.” 

And with that, Neville dropped to his knees and licked his way up Draco’s cock, lapping up the plentiful pre-come with his broad tongue. He gripped the swollen appendage firmly in his lips and took Draco in slowly, maddeningly, before pulling off just as slowly with firm suction and repeating the motions all over again.

A few witches had attempted to pleasure Draco in this way before, but Neville was in a whole other league. Draco fought not to cry out as he watched his cock disappear into Neville’s hot moist mouth. Heart beating frantically, he fought to catch his breath from the intense pleasure, while the repeated mantra of ‘Yes, yes, _yes_ ’ was the only coherent word he could seem to form. He found himself whining softly when Neville pulled off of his cock, only to groan when he took him back in, all the while fighting to hold off his orgasm, wanting to enjoy Neville’s talented tongue as much as he could. His hands instinctively came to rest on top of Neville’s head, his fingers clutching gently in the thick brown hair.

Neville growled softly around the cock in his mouth, taking Draco’s hands from his head. He did not have a great deal of knowledge himself, having only tried a few things when he dated. Gazing up at Draco’s pleasure simply made him want to prolong the experience as long as possible; he did not want an inopportune thrust to end it abruptly or poorly. 

Holding a slender wrist in each hand, he pinned them against Draco’s hips and increased his pace. Neville relished the weight and feel of Draco’s cock on his tongue as much as the taste of him, but it only took a moment or two to realize he had a problem–he wanted Draco to come in his mouth, to taste him fully. However, Neville’s own cock needed relief also. Draco whined in protest as the brunette stood abruptly still grasping his hands. With a growl, Neville commanded. “Touch me.” He placed Draco’s soft, smooth hands on the hungry bulge beneath the teeth of his fly, “Get it out.”

Draco nodded as his trembling fingers fumbled with Neville’s trousers. Soon, his slim fingers wrapped around the impressive cock he had only guessed at from stolen glimpses. Neville was thick and heavy, filling Draco’s hand so much so that the tips of his fingers barely met each other. His length was not lacking either, and Draco hummed low in approval as he slid his hand up and down the heated shaft. The Slytherin twisted his hand around the head and brushed his thumb through the pool of pre-come, causing Neville to tremble at his touch. Gently leaning forward to press his forehead against Draco’s, he put both hands against the wall on either side of Draco’s head and began to rut into the firm grip. Draco wasted no time, working the thick shaft up and down with both hands while Neville thrust into the tunnel formed by his encircling fingers. The resulting moan made Draco smile. He tilted his head up and stole his own kiss, playfully nipping at Neville’s lips with his teeth, until the brunette opened for him, allowing him to lick and suck at his tongue.

Neville felt the twinges that signaled his impending orgasm, but he was determined that Draco and he would share their pleasure together. After admiring the view for one more moment, he nimbly removed Draco’s hands from his cock. When Draco protested, Neville merely smirked. He pressed more fully against the body before him and pressed their swollen cocks together as he wrapped his large hand around them both. Leaning forward, he whispered a lubrication charm into Draco’s ear, eliciting a gasp of surprise, which then melted into a moan of pleasure as Neville began to stroke them. Soon, they were rutting against each other in earnest as the pace of Neville’s hand increased. 

Draco’s hands were gripping and stroking rhythmically over Neville’s biceps, and he couldn’t resist leaning forward to press his lips against the throbbing pulse at his throat. He enjoyed how well they fit together. Draco’s head perfectly nestled against one strong shoulder and under the Gryffindor’s firm jaw. Kissing and sucking feverishly against Neville’s collarbone, the blond’s orgasm was fast approaching, his hip speeding up along with the heavenly building pressure.

Neville appeared to be in much the same state, panting heavily against Draco’s ear, occasionally peppering his temple with kisses or sucking his earlobe. His free hand slid down Draco’s back and past the waistband of his loosened jeans. He couldn’t resist gripping that arse as his orgasm began to crest, but when his middle finger slid down the cleft, to tease and press lightly over Draco’s entrance, they were both finished.

Draco hadn’t felt anything like the sensation of that fingertip against his arsehole, and the stimulation of those nerve endings went straight to his cock. With a cry that joined his partner’s deep groan, he threw his head back and came hard over Neville's hand and his own abdomen. He trembled with the force of his orgasm as Neville continued to relentlessly massage his puckered hole. Their sounds of pleasure echoed through the empty kitchen, until finally, all that could be heard was both of them attempting to catch their breaths.

Neville carefully removed his finger from Draco’s arse and his hand from around their cocks, which were becoming very sensitive. He couldn’t resist licking the white cream from his fingers, wanting to savor Draco on his tongue while the breathless blond watched. Draco smiled and rose up onto his toes to taste himself on Neville’s lips, humming in satisfaction. 

Neville quickly muttered a charm to clean them both before tucking himself away. Then he helped Draco, gently returning his softened cock to his pants and fastening his jeans. With a sigh, Neville pulled the shirt reluctantly back over Draco’s pale chest, though he did note several possessive marks he had left behind with a crooked grin. He carefully buttoned the shirt, taking time to steal a few chaste kisses along the way, and finished by slipping his hand over soft cotton and into Draco’s trousers, tucking the shirt neatly in place. He made no explanation for his behavior, and Draco let him take care of him without complaint. 

Once he had restored his lover’s modesty, Neville reached up and ran his fingers through the silky blond locks, smoothing them back into some semblance of order, before pulling Draco into his arms, holding him close and kissing him tenderly. 

The Gryffindor gradually withdrew, smiling with gentle humor, “Think that will hold us until tonight then?” 

Draco returned the smile and nodded. 

Neville gave him a parting squeeze and a quick kiss, “Alright then, back to work. I’ll grab my sandwich in a bit.” And with that, Neville disappeared into the front of the shop to unlock the door, hastily combing his fingers through his own hair.

Twenty-five minutes had passed but no one was left waiting. so all was well.

Draco leaned limply against the wall for a few more minutes, contemplating what had just happened and… what would most likely happen later that night. His first experience with a man had proven to be unparalleled, and it wasn’t even the sex alone. With a shiver of delight, he recalled Neville’s possessive and dominant behavior, while remembering the tenderness Neville displayed as he cared for him afterwards was enough to make Draco’s eyes prickle. No one had touched him with such warmth and intimacy since his own mother bathed and dressed him as a small child. 

Startled by his thoughts, Draco realized with as much satisfaction as the sex they had shared, that Neville didn’t only want him to warm his bed but wanted _him—cared for him_. The fact that he had also come to care for Neville made his heart skip a beat with nerves as well as happiness, which had been missing from his life for a very long time. Draco concentrated on his original task, finishing up their sandwiches. In the last half hour, his life had changed drastically and this time at least, it seemed to have changed for the better. The future was uncertain, but he was eager to see what awaited him. 

The doorbell chimed and Draco looked out of the pass-through window to see Neville, greeting the new customers in his usual manner. Draco chuckled when he noticed Neville’s hair still in disarray; the poor man had tended to him but had mostly ignored his own post-coital appearance. With a quick flick of his wand, he sent a spell to smooth the errant hair. 

When Neville felt the tickle of magic and caught his reflection in a wall mirror, he turned to look at Draco with a rueful grin. He was met with a wink and an answering smirk. Neville had worried that things would feel odd after what they had done; instead things seemed perfectly fine—if not better. He turned back to his work and tried not to think about later tonight.

{*} {*} {*}

Standing in front of the fridge, Draco tried to ignore his nerves as he reached for a bottle of wine to open. Neville was downstairs, closing up the shop. Rather than stand there watching him and growing more nervous, Draco escaped upstairs.

He had been alright, as long as they stayed busy, but _now_ they would be... alone. 

At this point, Draco knew he wanted whatever Neville was willing to give him; his inexperience simply made him uncomfortable at the prospect. Draco was so lost in his thoughts, he didn’t hear the door open or close. Two strong arms slid around his waist from behind and a familiar chin came to rest on his shoulder, nearly causing him to drop the bottle in his hand.

“Are you planning on opening that or do you like how it feels in your hand,” the low baritone breathed in his ear.

Draco suppressed the shudder that voice caused and allowed his head to lean back against the firm shoulder behind him. “I was getting to it, no need to be cheeky.” He could feel the answering smile against his neck. Enjoying the press and warmth of Neville against his back, Draco gripped the glass in his hand more firmly, focusing on its coolness. “Are you hungry?” The Slytherin kept his voice casual, while he concentrated on uncorking the wine and not on the thumb stroking across his abdomen. 

A low growl vibrated against Draco’s skin, causing his hand to shake as he twisted the wine opener, Neville answered, “Yes and no.” A soft snort from his companion being the only cue to continue, Neville explained. “I’m not terribly hungry for,” he placed a lingering kiss against the base of Draco’s neck and huskily murmured, “food.” His lips made their way up behind the blonde’s ear, “but I _am_ starving for more of you.” 

He reached out to steady Draco’s trembling hand with his own, and when his companion turned to look at him, Neville leaned forward to kiss his pale prince once again. 

Draco’s heart beat frantically beneath his lover’s palm as their lips softly brushed each other, and his lover paid attention; as willing and receptive as he seemed to be, Neville could tell his lover was nervous. It wasn’t as if the tall Gryffindor hadn’t already waited for what seemed like forever for his Slytherin beauty; he could afford to wait a little longer in order to ease whatever worries Draco was having. “Still,” Neville suggested coyly, “I suppose we should eat something. We may need the energy _later_.” He chuckled softly, giving Draco a brief squeeze with his arms before he pulled away and began to gather things for a quick supper. “I’ll do a quick pasta. Do you want to make a salad or just have bread?”

Draco was puzzled by Neville’s sudden change in behavior, but also relieved. After opening the wine and leaving it to breathe, he answered with a wry grin, “What? No dessert tonight?” 

Neville glanced over his shoulder, allowing his eyes to linger over Draco’s form before answering, “I thought _you_ were dessert?”

Draco couldn’t stop from blushing but refused to back down from the blatant tease. “Well, I have been told I taste divine with whipped cream.”

Neville laughed out loud at that, then gave Draco a wink, “I’ll just bet you do.” He was trying to remember if he had any whipped cream and just how he was going to manage to get it on Draco when a throat cleared, apparently the Slytherin wanted to get them back on topic.

“So...maybe just a small salad and a bit of bread then?” Draco chuckled as he began preparing his own contribution to their meal, but he still caught Neville’s mischievous wink causing him to shake his head fondly, certain that the blush wouldn’t fade from his pale cheeks for hours.

A few minutes later, a dinner of angel hair tossed with lemon butter and cream, accompanied by salad, bread, and wine, proved a satisfying distraction. 

Neville noticed Draco growing quieter as the meal neared its end, those fears making a reappearance instead of being relaxed away. When Draco rose silently from the table and started cleaning up, the tall brunette stopped him by lightly placing a hand over his, “Leave it.” 

Neville stood up, grabbing the bottle of wine and his glass in one hand, motioning for Draco to bring his glass as well. Taking the smaller hand in his own, he lead his nervous lover over to the sofa. He patted the seat beside him and smiled as Draco sat easily beside him, waiting for Neville to refill their glasses. When Neville relaxed into his seat, holding his wine, he rested his arm along the back of the sofa, barely touching Draco’s tense shoulders. He was reassured when Draco leaned into his side without hesitation. Neville coaxed him a bit closer, absently rubbing his shoulder with his fingers as the silent blond sipped his wine.

Neville studied his companion and decided he was simply going to have to be frank if they were to get anywhere. The Slytherin was too adept at worming his way out of discussing uncomfortable topics. “Draco, you’ve been nervous since we closed for the day. What’s bothering you? Is it me?" The fingers massaging Draco’s shoulder pause. “I mean because I’m...a man?” Then the Gryffindor began to worry that he had pushed Draco into all of this and rushed on to ask before the blond could respond, “You didn’t do all this because of me, did you? Thinking you owed me something...some type of payment for what I’ve done?” Neville swallowed, preparing to let his pride take a blow, “I mean, did you actually want me earlier? You weren’t just going along because I’m your boss or something?”

Draco’s eyes grew wide, and he looked slightly insulted that Neville thought a Malfoy would ever do such a thing. “It’s nothing like that Neville! I wanted you then and I want you now. I think that was abundantly clear before. I kissed _you_ first. I want you...in ways I’ve never wanted any other person in my life.” He had blurted it out before he even thought twice, too late to take it back now. His cards were on the table, and he snapped his mouth closed, flushing uncomfortably.

Neville was relieved by the declaration but still not certain where Draco’s nerves were coming from. He resumed kneading the shoulder beneath his palm and smiled reassuringly. “And I have wanted you—forever. So is it that things are moving too fast... Us having...sex?”

The reserved blond nods his head in affirmation. 

“You’ve never had sex with a...man.” Neville correctly guessed.

Draco shook his head, “Not just sex, _anything_...anything at all. I’ve looked at men and have appreciated their appearance. Thought about being...intimate with them, but I’ve never so much as approached one. Everything that happened today was a first for me.” Draco’s ears turned red, and he quickly glanced at Neville, who only smiled warmly for Draco to continue. “I’ve wanted you since the day I first saw you here. I’ve wanted you every day, nearly every moment we’ve been together, but I was worried about...making a fool of myself. I’m sorry if I’m making this awkward.”

Neville chuckled softly, “You’re not making this awkward, Draco. You’re being honest. And I would rather start a relationship off with honesty than for you to put yourself in a position that’s uncomfortable for you.” Draco couldn’t stop his smirk at the innuendo in that statement, arching an eyebrow sharply at Neville. Neville made a shushing gesture at him, though he was grinning. “And I don’t have much more experience than you, really. Only a bit of messing around on dates. I’ve never actually...you know...shagged a man either, so we can both be awkward—together.” He blushed a brilliant red as he made his own confession to Draco, but it only endeared him more to the blond. “There’s an easy way to go about this, you know,” Neville ran his fingers through soft, satiny wisps, massaging his longtime crush’s scalp with firm circular motions, “Tell me what you want to do.”

With his eyes closed, Draco groaned, “Everything, anything...how can I know what I want when I’ve hardly experienced any of it?” 

At that moment, all the Slytherin wanted was to be with Neville, and he would try anything the brunette wanted, even if that cock of his was intimidating as hell.

Neville laughed out loud at the man’s eagerness and leaned forward to set his empty wine glass on the table in front of them. He turned back and took Draco’s glass as well, setting it aside. As he hugged Draco close, he said, “What do you want to do _right now_?”

That was easy the blond thought. “Get to see your body. You do realize that you’ve already seen me practically naked just this morning. I’ve only seen your torso and cock. I’d say you have an unfair advantage, Longbottom.”

Neville couldn’t resist the tease, “And I would say you’ve already seen the best bit, Malfoy.” He groaned in mock pain as Draco punched his shoulder.

“Ruddy arse.” Draco ribbed.

Neville leaned back, pulling Draco over until he was straddling his lap. He lay back against the cushions and spread both arms out to his sides. “So what else would you like to see? I’m all yours. Do whatever you want with me, take your time, make yourself comfortable with my body. We’ll start there and see where it leads, yeah?”

Hesitating only a moment, Draco lunged forward, kissing the brunette with fervor. The Slytherin’s fingers seized the edge of Neville’s jumper, only parting their lips to tug it off and over his head. Once Neville’s chest was bare, Draco’s hands instantly pressed over sculpted pecs, his long fingers splaying wide to cover as much smooth skin as possible. He began to explore the broad torso hungrily, nimble fingers tracing the lines of molded muscle, returning over and over to tease the rapidly hardening nipples. Soon touching the expanse of skin wasn't enough. 

Breaking their kiss, Draco licked, nibbled, and sucked his way down Neville’s neck and across his collarbone. He made certain to suck hard over the spot where throat merged into shoulder, leaving his mark to stake his claim on the man beneath him. Neville didn’t object; he was too busy moaning, his breathing already uneven. 

Draco glanced up and sensually curled his lip into that familiar Slytherin mocking grin, before he flicked the tip of his tongue across each nipple. Neville gasped softly; certain his nipples had never been this sensitive before. After laving each one with a broad swirl of his tongue, Draco settled down to suck one sensitive nub into his mouth. 

Neville couldn’t stop himself from rutting up into Draco from the stimulation, their hard erections perfectly aligned. He brought his work worn fingers to rest on the blonde’s head, feathering through the fine soft hair and scraping the scalp. Draco growled softly and bit down on the sensitive bud in his mouth. Neville cried out, gripping his lover’s pale head and arching his chest into the questing mouth. No matter what he did or how Neville responded, Draco only craved more. 

Releasing the first nipple with a parting flick, the Slytherin leaned over to give the other side the same treatment, while his fingers slid down and began to unfasten the button of Neville’s trousers.

While Draco might never have been with a man, Neville could only give thanks that he was the one who benefited from the eagerness of his lover. There was also a vicious streak of possessive pride that Neville tried his best to downplay; knowing that he would not only be Draco’s first male lover, but also, if he played his cards right, he just might be his last. The simple thought of being able to share _this_ with the beautiful blond, indefinitely, made Neville even harder than he believed possible. It seemed all Draco had needed to help his nerves was permission to explore. Neville had never been so strung out with so little foreplay; though he supposed, his desire for the Slytherin heightened the sensations he was feeling. His breathing was already ragged when Draco slid back on his lap and pulled the Gryffindor's trousers open. 

“Draco!” he panted, trying to get his brain to cooperate and form a coherent thought. “We’ve got all night, love. You needn’t rush.” Neville didn’t seem to notice the endearment that had slipped out and Draco didn’t call him on it either.

Draco, with the heel of his palm, rubbed along the hard shaft, still covered in soft cotton pants, delighting in the loud groan as Neville’s head fell back onto the sofa in pleasure. He leaned forward, nibbling his way along Neville’s strong jaw as he spoke, “I believe you said ‘whatever I wanted’, correct?”

A shaky nod was his only response. 

Draco licked along the carotid artery, noting the shudder as he continued to press against Neville’s cock while giving a hard suck to his earlobe. “Well maybe,” he released the reddened organ from his lips and looked Neville in the eyes, “Maybe I _want_ you naked all night...starting _now_. Hips up!” The command was sharp and clear, and Neville complied instantly as Draco tugged his trousers and pants down his legs, leaving his large cock flushed and weeping before the Slytherin’s hungry eyes. 

Draco leaned forward, their gazes locked, as he pressed his tongue against him and licked a long slow stripe broadly up that gorgeous cock. The brunette let out a stuttering exhale, instantly wanting more. Instead, still staring into Neville’s heated eyes, Draco pulled back, ignoring the Gryffindor’s straining member while he slowly slid off the rest of his lover’s garments, leaving him sprawled out on the sofa looking completely debauched. 

Recalling the delicious torture he felt when Neville watched him earlier, making him beg for his touch, with a knowing smile, Draco stood before Neville, the whispered, “Stay,” the only thing he said as he began to slowly unbutton his shirt. 

Neville licked his lips, unconsciously flexing his fingers, and avidly watching as Draco undressed, eager to see, taste, and touch him again. The shirt fell to the floor and he waited for more, only to be confused when Draco hesitated, allowing his hand to rest lightly on his waistband of his jeans while hooking a thumb around the button, taunting but not opening them. 

Neville looked up to see those piercing grey eyes watching him with interest. The Slytherin rubbed his other hand over his jaw in silent contemplation, letting his thumb tap against his lower lip while his gaze visibly raked over his lover, coming to rest on the erect cock eager for some attention. Those sharp eyes snapped back to Neville’s face, and Draco gave him a positively evil grin as he wrapped his lips around his thumb and began to suck, sensuously moving his head up and down. Neville’s cock throbbed, jerking sharply at the implications in the gesture. When Draco removed the wet digit from his mouth and let his hand drift down to his chest to rub a wet circle over his own nipple with a soft sigh, Neville bit his lip to keep from whimpering, his right hand reaching to grasp his cock for some relief from his prolonged torment.

Draco quickly put an end to such efforts, bending forward to grab Neville’s hand and pin it to the sofa beside his hip. “I don’t think so. Turnabout’s fair play, and I want you to wait. This time, _I_ get to taste.” 

Draco manhandled Neville to sit up properly on the couch, sliding his palms up the inner thighs to push his legs open. Lowering himself to his knees between muscular thighs, he wrapped his hand around the base of Neville’s shaft. Draco placed his lips around the glans, sucking gently, mapping every ridge and minute change in the texture and feel of Neville’s cock with his tongue, imagining what it might feel like moving inside him. When he dipped the tip of his tongue into the weeping slit, his eyes closed as he tasted the pre-come gathered there, humming low in his throat to express his satisfaction. Slowly, he began to take more of the shaft into his mouth, doubting he could take much of Neville’s considerable size but anxious to give as much pleasure as he could. Even before he reopened his eyes he could hear Neville’s audible grunting and groans of pleasure along with the scruffing of his fingers grabbing the cushions nearby as he fought not to buck up into Draco’s mouth.

Draco opened his eyes to see Neville’s pupils so dilated that only the barest edge of green remained, his face flushed red as he panted softly and begged for more. 

“Draco...please.” 

Even at the height of his reign as the Slytherin prince, Draco had never held so much power over any one person. Deciding to show his lover some mercy, he began to suck harder, relaxing his throat and trying to take more in as he moved his mouth up and down. His own cock throbbed mercilessly within his jeans, desperately begging for its own release as he moaned. Draco used his free hand to unfasten his button and zip, pushing his jeans open and down enough to shove his hand into the front and grip his rigid member. The Slytherin moaned in relief, triggering an answering groan from his lover as Neville’s hips rocked minutely back and forth, the instinct to rut and fuck becoming harder to ignore.

Draco was surprised by how close to the edge he was as he stroked his cock lightly. However, there was too much he still wanted out of tonight, so much more than to simply get each other off on the sofa. He released the hold of his lips, pulling off with a wet slurp, as he stood once again. Neville looked at him with a combined expression of confusion and pained anticipation.

Draco held out his hand to the aroused Gryffindor with a small smile and a quiet plea, “Neville, I want you to take me to bed… _your_ bed. Please.” 

Neville was on his feet and grabbed his hand so fast that Draco didn’t even get the chance to make a cheeky remark. The tall muscular brunette wrapped one arm around his waist and snatched him off of his feet, easily lifting him and slipping his other arm under his thighs to hold him bridal style as he carried him to the bedroom. Draco couldn’t stop his embarrassed blush of pleasure. Two weeks ago, Neville had carried him to his bed under much different circumstances; at least this time, the Slytherin was able to enjoy those strong arms holding him so easily.

Draco would have laughed at Neville’s eagerness, but as soon as his arse hit the bed’s surface and he saw the scorching gaze directed at him, he was the one quickly wiggling out of his trousers and pants. 

Finally matching Neville’s state of nakedness, the pale blond beauty reached for the tanned brunette. Eager to see the erotic contrast of their bodies intertwined, Draco pulled him down to lay over him, groaning out an ecstatic ‘Yes!’ as that strong body settled between his legs, bringing their erections together. _This_ was what he wanted most of all, to be spread out and held down beneath this gorgeous man. Draco felt grounded in a way he couldn’t explain, as if he belonged here. 

He wrapped his long legs around Neville’s hips, letting his feet brush along the backs of those calves and thighs he admired so much. One hand found its way into thick, soft brown hair, and the other slid over a taut bicep, using them for purchase to passionately reconnect their mouths. While they rocked against each other, groaning their mutual pleasure, Draco was amazed at how natural it felt being with Neville, wanting everything his new lover would give him. He barely heard his own cries of ‘please, please, please,’ rasping out around moist lips and warm tongues.

“More,” the Slytherin pleaded louder, “please.”

Neville looked down, relishing the sight of Draco Malfoy begging for him. He gently brushed a golden strand of hair from an already sweaty brow, “We don’t have to go further tonight if you aren’t ready. I know I am a bit...large, and I don’t want to hurt you...”

Draco was shaking his head adamantly even before Neville finished. “No. I want this… I want you, to feel you in me. I-I’ve been dreaming about this since I woke up here and saw you.” His flush only grew deeper as he admitted his longings, but he had come this far; he wasn’t going to be intimidated now, even if he was still a bit...apprehensive. “Please Neville, don’t make me wait. I can take it...I want to.”

Neville tended to read people well, so he could see the hint of trepidation that showed through Draco’s bravado and desire. It only took a second to decide what to do, “Alright, but you have to take me first.”

“What?” Draco shouted, stunned. He had already admitted he’d never done this. “What do you mean? Why? I’ve never… I don’t know what to do.”

“Because,” Neville calmly interjected, “it’ll be easier for you, once you’ve come a time or two; you’ll be more relaxed. 

“By the way, I’ve never been taken either, so you’ll be able to get a better idea of what to expect.”

Neville gave Draco a sheepish grin when he saw his surprise. He shrugged slightly, “When I did date…I’ve only received hand jobs or blow jobs with some finger play—and not many of them. I told you I don’t do casual. I wasn’t going to let just any old bloke have me.” He pressed forward and kissed his Slytherin tenderly before continuing, “You, however, are quite...extraordinary...always have been, actually. I’m pretty certain that this isn't a one-off,” only a slight hint of uncertainty could be heard in his statement, “that this’ll be the beginning for us…” The Gryffindor paused waiting for a reaction. 

Draco processed what Neville was implying. This wasn’t just about sex anymore. He was offering a real future, something more than a job or a place to stay or even his body. Neville was offering him a life filled with companionship and...love. 

And Draco wanted it all with a ferocity that scared him. Eyes beginning the shine with emotion, he shakily exhales and nods his heads, carding his fingers through Neville’s hair.

A broad smile of relief appears on Neville’s face. “I think it’s fitting we’re both starting off on equal footing. We can both explore this uncharted territory together, yeah?

“Besides, I refuse to shag you if you don’t shag me first. Those are my terms, take them or leave them.” The teasing tone caused Draco’s eyes to narrow, and Neville laughed, then cried in mock pain as his hair was yanked playfully.

“Prat!” Draco huffed with a smile.

Neville returned the grin and kissed the tip of Draco’s nose. “But I’m _your_ prat,” he said with a wink.

The blond could only shake his head at Neville’s cheekiness, trying to hide his happiness at the words. 

With a sigh, Draco took the plunge, “What do I do?”

Neville reached for his bedside table drawer that held some muggle lubricant; charms were quick and convenient, but there was something intimate about using your hands. He’d save the charms for later. 

The Gryffindor flopped onto his back, pulled his knees up, and spread his legs, displaying his arse provocatively to his curious lover. 

“You have to prepare me a bit first...stretch the muscle,” Neville explained. Wetting his fingers with a liberal squeeze of lube and promptly pushing one into his arsehole, the brunette began to work it in and out. He saw Draco’s intense scrutiny and asked, “You ever try this yourself?” 

The blonde head only shook side to side, his eyes growing wider as Neville pushed a second finger in and grunted softly while his cock dribbled a fresh stream of pre-come. “Prostate,” Neville gasped, “that’s the sweet spot; you’ll see.”

The reminder that _he_ would be on the receiving end of this same treatment stirred Draco from his captivated trance. 

Having gained the blond’s attention again, Neville asked, “Do you want to try?”

Draco licked his lips and gave a quick nod. Gently removing Neville’s fingers, the Slytherin grabbed the lube, slicked his fingers, and then pushed two into Neville’s tight, hot arse. He carefully worked his fingers in and out as Neville guided him to find that spot inside to please him. When he finally found and firmly rubbed against it, Neville’s back bowed off of the mattress.

“Shit! That’s...uhm, that’s even better when someone else does it. Add another finger. I should be ready soon.” 

Draco did as instructed, his free hand reaching reflexively to stroke Neville’s pulsing cock, only to be stopped. 

“No! Don’t. I-I can’t, I’ll come if you do that...I want to wait until you are in me.” 

Releasing the thick, hard rod with a final firm stroke, Draco smirked as he focused on Neville’s prostate. 

“Oh, hell! Now, Draco! I want your cock in me. Do it now, come on.” Draco positioned himself, and reached for the lube when he heard Neville mutter a spell. He glanced down at the sheen of lubrication coating the tight pucker.

“I really need you to teach me that charm,” Draco said, before he coated his cock and pressed against Neville’s opening. It gave easily, and he glanced at Neville’s face to be sure he was fine, before the Slytherin pushed forward with steady pressure until he was fully sheathed. 

The squeeze of Neville’s arse around his cock felt amazing, threatening to finish him before he could even think of thrusting. Holding his breath, he squeezed the base of his cock to stop himself from blowing his load prematurely. Draco could only think, _Merlin… so tight and hot_.

Once the blond regained control, Neville began to rock against him slightly, bringing a low groan from each of them. Pulling out slowly, he only paused a moment before pushing back in, setting a slow and steady pace. Draco could never have imagined how this felt, how perfectly Neville's body embraced his prick as if they were made for each other. 

The brunette grabbed behind his knees to open himself wider, his hips arching to meet the cock fucking him for the first time. 

Draco, avidly studying Neville’s every moan and gasp, shifted the angle of his slow, steady thrusts. 

“Oh fuck,” the Gryffindor exclaimed, as cock met prostate, “Right there! Shit, don’t stop!” 

Draco had stilled his hips at the sudden shout but slowly resumed at Neville’s encouraging words. “Oh, man. Harder...faster.” 

Draco complied, beginning to fuck Neville in earnest. He would not be able to last long, the sensations were so intense. He leaned forward on his elbows to kiss the Gryffindor as he pushed deeper into his lover’s body. Words failed Draco and the only sounds he could emit were groans and whimpers.

Neville could only moan against Draco’s mouth as the stimulation of his prostate, coupled with the friction against his cock trapped between them, sent him over the edge. His come and Draco’s name, spilling freely from his body. 

The Slytherin gasped as Neville tightened around him, only managing a few more ragged thrusts, before he spilled deep into the clutching arse that eagerly wrung every last drop from his cock. His entire body shook as he came, certain he hadn’t had such a forceful orgasm before. 

As the last waves of his pleasure faded, all Draco could do was lay across Neville’s sweaty chest, trying to catch his breath. His weight didn’t seem to bother his lover, who wrapped his arms around him and held him close, softly kissing his temple and hair. Neither of them spoke until Draco was able to gently withdraw and lay down next to Neville, sweat cooling on their bodies as they rested.

Not wanting to be completely separated from Draco however, Neville reached over to lace their fingers together. When he felt he could finally speak, he turned to look at the pale blond, whose eyes had closed briefly. Tugging on their joined hands to get his attention, Neville grinned, “That was bloody brilliant! Absolutely terrific.” His smile could have driven Devil’s Snare from the room; he was so pleased. 

Draco couldn’t help smiling softly in return, “I am infinitely happy I could oblige you.” Glancing over in obvious anticipation, he asked, “My turn now?” 

Neville had to laugh out loud. Draco’s brow furrowed in indignation.

When Neville caught the expression, he rolled onto his side, wrapped an arm around Draco’s waist and kissed him soundly. “I’m sorry, you’re just so eager. However, you shall have to wait just a bit. Despite the wonders of magic, I don’t generally get hard again immediately after an orgasm, let alone one as intense as that. Just give me a few, okay?” His new lover couldn’t help his smile at the comment and nodded his understanding.

“Come here,” the Gryffindor commanded before pulling Draco more fully into his arms. The blond pressed his lips to Neville’s cheek in forgiveness and settled in next to his lover.

After Draco quickly muttered a spell to clean them both, he lay his head over the strong heartbeat. Closing his eyes while they both recharged, they touched each other lightly and kissed wherever they could reach.

Half an hour later, the touches were becoming more specific and the kisses more demanding as their arousal began to build again. When Neville finally pulled Draco’s chin up to place a heated kiss to already swollen lips, it was time. 

“Are you ready for more?” 

Draco most certainly was and nodded with a hum as he returned the kiss. 

Neville pushed him away slightly as he instructed, “Turn over.” 

Draco obediently rolled onto his stomach, only to have strong hands grab his hips and pull him up onto his knees. He began to rise up onto his hands as well, but a large palm pushed firmly between his shoulder blades and held his chest to the bed.

“Just like this… stay,” commanded Neville’s voice, already growing low and husky. Preparing Draco to accept his cock could take a while, but he intended to enjoy every moment of it, the ready submission of his lover to his demands only feeding his arousal. 

Neville ran his hands along the smooth expanse of Draco’s pale, bowed back, enjoying the shiver his touch elicited from the smaller man. He caressed the globes of his arse, each one perfectly filling his palm. Using his thumbs to spread those lovely cheeks apart, he gazed upon the virgin opening that he would be claiming. He blew gently across the tight pink furl and chuckled at the sharp intake of breath he heard. That was all the warning he gave before he licked Draco from behind his balls, over his arsehole, and up to the base of his spine where he placed a firm kiss. 

“So much of you to taste still,” Neville breathed over the skin, already beginning to flush anew under his ministrations, and delighted in the soft cry it earned him. He quickly returned his tongue to Draco’s arsehole, skillfully lapping the tight bud for several minutes, flicking it with the tip of his tongue, tracing the circle of puckered flesh over and over, before finally pushing into the tight opening. Draco moaned a soft ‘Ah’ from the sudden yet welcome invasion and pressed himself more fully against Neville’s probing tongue. The Gryffindor dedicated himself to thoroughly fucking Draco’s arse with his tongue, tasting its unique earthy flavor, while the sphincter slowly began to relax. He watched as the Slytherin went mad from the stimulation. 

Draco didn’t know what to think or say when Neville first put his mouth _there_ , but he quickly lost any trepidation as the hot, wet muscle produced the most amazing sensations in his most personal area. When Neville pressed his tongue in deep, sealed his lips around his arsehole and sucked hard, Draco screamed with pleasure. He was panting hard by the time Neville stopped, his cock leaking a large pool of pre-come. Draco was so aroused he barely noticed when Neville pressed the first lubed finger into his arse.

Neville didn’t want to give Draco the chance to become nervous or tighten up so he found the prostate quickly, earning him another small cry. Smirking knowingly, the brunette said, “Told you, didn’t I.” 

The only reply was a continuous series of ‘ohs’ as he stimulated the sensitive gland . A second finger went in easily as well, and Neville was pleased with the progress but knew he would have to stretch Draco to four fingers if he was going to take him because of his girth. Steadily pushing a third finger in, attempting to keep it as pleasurable as he possibly could, Neville heard a soft ‘Ah’ followed by a quiet hiss as Draco felt the slight burn and stretch of Neville’s fingers. 

Remembering how large Neville was, Draco knew this was only a taste of what would come and appreciated that his lover slowed his stroke for a moment to let him adjust. With a contented sigh due to the well-placed pressure on his prostate, he was ready for more, and Neville sped up the pace of his fingers. 

Draco could hardly believe how good it felt when his prostate was stimulated and couldn’t wait to feel the pressure of a cock instead of fingers. He rocked harder and faster, taking in all three fingers to their base. His prick was so hard, hanging thick and heavy between his legs and Draco wasn’t sure how much longer he would be able to continue without the danger of coming. 

“More,” the Slytherin was able to huff out.

Neville stilled Draco’s pumping hips, and slowly inserted the fourth finger, with a liberal application of more lube. Draco had to force himself to take a deep breath and relax; the burning was intense but Neville was careful and took his time working him open slowly and brushing his prostate with each pass. Draco quickly lost himself to the push and pull of those fingers inside him, discomfort beginning to fade and intense pleasure taking its place. He hadn’t realized that he had raised up on his hands and knees and was pushing himself forcefully against Neville’s hand, wantonly begging for more until his orgasm built rapidly. 

“More Neville...give me more...shit, harder. Oh...oh, OH! I-I can’t...oh, I need to... I’m going to come! Fuck! Can’t stop...oh hell!”

Neville yanked his fingers from the well-stretched hole and grasped Draco’s cock firmly at the base, holding tight to stave off the impending orgasm while the Slytherin cursed him soundly.

“OW! Bollocks! What are you doing? Dammit man, you’re killing me!” Draco whined, hating that he was denied his orgasm so painfully.

Neville held his ground, bringing his free hand down on one downy cheek with a resounding slap. He couldn’t help but admire the flaming red print blossoming over Draco’s pale arse. “You want my cock in your arse then you don’t come until I’m ready.” It wasn’t exactly the way Neville meant for it to come out, but he was pretty lost to his desires. 

When Draco stopped his fussing and whimpered softly, going still beneath him as he waited for Neville to proceed, his cock throbbed sharply in interest. _Perhaps something to discuss later…_

Once the threat of Draco’s orgasm had passed, Neville released his hold. He lay down next to the blond and prompted him to move with a tug on his arm. Grey eyes met green and waited for instruction. 

“Straddle my waist. I want you to ride me.” 

Draco readily moved to comply, positioning the blunt head of Neville’s cock against his stretched opening. Glancing up and lightly teasing the leaking tip between his arse cheeks, the Slytherin seductively whispered the lubrication charm in the most seductive manner.

Draco squirmed as the warm tingle of the spell tickled his arse before taking a deep breath and lowering himself down. Neville had done his job well, the bulbous head entering with only a slight burn before it slipped deep into Draco’s heated passage. He couldn’t stop the sigh of satisfaction, knowing that a part of Neville was now inside him. 

Slowly, working himself up and down a bit at a time, Draco gradually sank down onto Neville’s massive cock. When his arse finally rested against the top of Neville’s thighs, he took another deep breath and smiled down at the Gryffindor as he circled his hips in a slow, maddening arch to better acquaint himself with the girth inside of him now, feeling exquisitely full. Swiveling his hips just right, Draco began moaning loudly as the hard cock firmly ground against his prostate. _Bloody hell Neville’s inside me...and it’s so good_. He glanced at the reddened face and sweaty brow of his new lover, straining not to take back control.

Neville had held himself as still as possible, his hands lightly supporting Draco’s slim hips as he let his lover direct the pace. He resisted bucking his hips to enter him more quickly and had been as patient as a saint as the virgin arse slowly swallowed his massive cock for the first time. He indulged Draco’s exploration , until he thought his cock and balls would explode. 

Neville couldn’t take another minute of this slow torture. “Draco...please, _please move_!”

The pale beauty obliged, easily moving up and down the gloriously thick cock. He rode steadily for a few moments before lifting himself up, leaving only the head inside of him. Then he sat down hard, taking Neville in as deeply as possible, both men moaning loudly, closing their eyes, and arching into each other at the sensation. 

Draco leaned back resting his palms on those taut thighs beneath him and began to ride with abandon, pushing himself up and down on Neville’s cock as fast as he could. He didn’t even try to stop the sounds coming from his mouth, and he heard answering cries from the man under him. Sweat beaded on his skin, and the red flush of exertion painted his cheeks. 

It was amazing; everything he had fantasized about for weeks, except...something was missing. Draco’s pace slowed, then faltered as he considered what it was. When he finally had the answer, he leaned forward, letting his tongue follow the curve of Neville’s ear, before he spoke in a lust-filled, throaty voice. “I want you to fuck me _hard_. I want you to claim me...hold me down and fuck me deep until you _own_ every part of me.” He dipped his wet tongue into Neville’s ear, causing the strong man to shudder in delight before Draco whispered, “ _Please_.”

Neville had no idea if Draco was aware of his particular impulses in regards to him or if he wanted and needed this for himself, but he was not going to argue with the request. He tightly gripped the blond by the hair as he claimed a kiss, tugging the lower lip with his teeth, before he settled to suck a vivid mark below Draco’s ear to the enthusiastic agreement of the Slytherin. 

Once the dark bruise was to his liking, Neville yanked the blond’s head back firmly, until they were staring at each other. “Get on your hands and knees with that gorgeous arse of yours in the air.” Draco’s eyes darkened, and he scrambled to do as instructed. 

The brunette swatted a still rosy buttock and heard a satisfying cry. “Knees apart! Don’t move, unless I say.”

Neville watched as Draco quickly positioned himself. Not wanting the other cheek to feel left out, he gave another sharp slap, “And don’t even try and touch your pretty little cock.” He leaned over Draco’s back, letting his dripping cock leave a sticky trail, and practically growled into his ear, “I guarantee you’ll come from the fucking you’re about to get _without_ it.” Draco didn’t try to suppress the needy whine that welled up in his throat as he nodded to indicate he understood. That was all the assent Neville needed, before burying his cock deep in Draco’s arse with one firm thrust. He grasped those narrow hips, pulling his lover into every stroke as he began to pound into him fiercely.

Draco cried out in pleasure as Neville finally, _finally_ fucked him the way he’d dreamed. It was primal and intense; everything he wanted from this man and more. He was ready to come after only a minute, but Neville, sensing his cresting climax, once again encircled the base of his cock, holding him on the keen edge of sensation.

The stimulation was so overwhelming, Draco gave up even trying to speak; the only sounds he was capable of were pleas for more and babbles of encouragement. He had to consciously force himself to grip the blankets instead of reaching for his cock. Just when he was certain he would give in, Neville moved. 

Gripping blond hair in his hand once more, Neville tugged at the same time he wrapped his other arm around the sweat-slicked chest. He pulled until Draco’s pale back was arched beautifully against him and the pale head rested against his shoulder, allowing his cock to slip even deeper. 

The Slytherin’s breathing was ragged, and his cock jutted out angry and red, demanding release. Neville was utterly undone by Draco’s supplication. He growled out ‘ _Mine_ ’ in an animalistic voice he had never used before as he thrust hard and deep one last time, coming with a yell as he bit down on a slim shoulder. Draco followed right behind, drowning in sensation, emotion, and come.

It was a long time before either of them could speak. They had barely moved, Neville pulling Draco over with him and spooning him tightly against his chest as he lay them on their sides, keeping himself buried in his lover for as long as possible.

As he rested his hands over Neville’s arms, the arms that sheltered him like a treasure, Draco felt utterly sated, as though he had found where he belonged.

“Never leave,” breathed Neville softly against a sweaty temple.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” came Draco’s gentle reply.

{*} {*} {*}

Two years later, Draco was welcomed at the annual memorial of The Battle of Hogwarts. Now a respected member of the wizarding community in his own right, with a ring on his finger, and a child in his arms; he stood proudly next to the man who had made it all possible. The second chance he was chasing had found him instead, proving the future may best be found in the unexpected.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This fic is part of an ongoing fest. You may leave a comment here or on LIVEJOURNAL for the author to see.](http://hprarefest.livejournal.com/67052.html)


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